Thicker Than Water
by The Blue Raven
Summary: A pregnant fugitive goes to Cole asking for protection from Zin, forcing him into a nowin situation and dredging up unwanted memories. Help once again comes from an unexpected corner, courtesy of Gwen. AU
1. Chapter 1

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Thicker Than Water

By: Blue

Summary: A pregnant fugitive goes to Cole asking for protection from Zin, forcing him into a no-win situation and dredging up unwanted memories. Help once again comes from an unexpected corner, courtesy of Gwen. (AU)

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but, hey, just as soon as that deal with Zin goes through…

Timeline: Between "Dark Road Home" and "A Made Guy" … after my fic "Old Friends"

Spoilers: minor for "Breach"

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Chapter 1 -- Unexpected Developments 

Busy today, Gwen noticed as she carried a tray laden with drinks to a corner table. Gwen Angelo _loved_ tending bar, everything about it except the noise. It was a job she enjoyed, a constant chance to meet new people and study behaviors first-hand. Because of the Watchfire's location and reputation as a cop-bar, working there frequently allowed her to interact closely with members of the law-enforcement community. 

Frequently, she managed to overhear snatches of conversation not meant for civilian ears. Working a cop-bar was a _great_ way of picking up valuable information. It was far better than stripping had ever been, even if that, too, had allowed her to pick up her share of Intel, albeit from different sources. Intelligence gathering was all about being invisible. It was an activity where it was advantageous to become just another piece of scenery. Gwen had blending into the background down to a science. She was nowhere near as skilled as the Dessarians she knew, but she was not far off either. She spent a few moments in light conversation with the men and women she had just delivered drinks to before returning to the bar. 

Cole smiled down at her as she brushed past him on her way back behind the bar. In the several months since Mel had hired the cheerful young grad student, she had found her way into the Cirronian's heart. He still missed Jess very much, of course, but he could not help but like her replacement. Gwen had a great deal in common with him in terms of personality and beliefs, as well as a common interest in criminal psychology that had led to more than one discussion that had started early in the morning and terminated late at night.

The fact that she was dating a Cirronian was one that Mel was still getting used to, Cole knew, but neither of them really held her secrecy in the matter against her. After all, it was still in question whether she even _knew_ that her lover was Cirronian, and there was no real cause to expect her to be open with the fact if she _did_. Cole had, more than once since that revelation, had reason to wonder if Gwen was not more deeply involved in Kettai's work than she let on, but he had no real proof. Without revealing to her that _he_ was Cirronian, Cole could hardly broach the subject with her. Besides, secrecy and distrust were ways of life for members of Migar's Special Security Taskforce. Staying quiet often translated into staying alive and no doubt Kettai had made sure that Gwen understood this. She might not tell them anything even if confronted directly.

He looked up as the front door opened. "Hello, Jonas!" he greeted the older lawyer cheerfully. 

"Afternoon, Counselor," Gwen chimed in as he pulled off his coat. 

"Hi, kids," Jonas greeted them, smiling.

"Your usual?" Gwen asked, reaching for a glass. "Or did you want to get adventurous? Mister Hauser and I have that new recipe book out again," she told him in a sing-song voice. 

Cole frowned and looked around. He could have been certain that Mel had thrown away the book in question.

Jonas chuckled and shook his head. Two weeks ago, he had let Gwen talk him into 'being adventurous' and sampling some drink they had been practicing. Cole had abstained as he always did. For Jonas and Gwen, though, who had not, the results had resembled those of a nasty case of food poisoning. 

"I think I'll stick with my usual fare, Gwen," Jonas chuckled. "Thanks."

"They say God hates a coward, you know," she teased, her eyes shining.

"They also say that it's generally wise to let sleeping dogs lie, dear," he pointed out, laughing.

"Hey, can we get a couple more pitchers of beer over here?" a young man called from a table by the door.

"You bet!" Gwen replied cheerfully.

"I'll get it, Gwen," Cole told her.

"Thanks, Mister Hauser." She grinned up at him before returning her attention to Jonas. "One plain old boring excuse for a drink, coming up," she announced in a voice laden with disapproval, shaking her head and handing Jonas his drink.

Jonas chuckled and accepted it, shaking his head. "How have we been, dear?" he inquired.

"Taking solid food again," she teased, resting her elbows on the bar and quickly becoming absorbed in conversation with him.

Cole drew up another pitcher of beer, knowing that Gwen would be awhile with Jonas. She always was once the back and forth teasing got started. She would not neglect her work, but she would spend as much time bantering with Jonas as she possibly could in between dealing with other customers. That would be less time today, Cole decided, than was typical on a Tuesday afternoon. The bar was not _crowded_ by any stretch, but two small groups of college students, a professionally-dressed couple, and Jonas himself tallied up to fifteen customers. Definitely not bad for a Tuesday afternoon. There were times when the bar had fewer customers on Tuesday _night._ Cole smiled, pleased to imagine Mel's happy expression when she returned from her grocery shopping and saw the small crowd. 

The young men by the door would please Mel especially, Cole knew. They were celebrating. Gwen had explained to Cole that it was Finals week, the end of the fall term. She had spent a few minutes chatting with the young men at the table and Cole had overheard some comments about 'surviving Biochem'. He assumed that meant they had passed the class in question, an assumption that seemed to be borne out by the amount of alcohol they were consuming and the general good cheer of the group. Gwen had explained to him that Biochemistry was a requirement for the premed program, and one of the hardest classes offered. 

"Gwen says you passed your Biochemistry final," he noted brightly as the beer was accepted. "Congratulations." 

"Thanks, man!" one replied cheerfully.

"That Gwen chick seeing anyone?" another asked.

Cole frowned at the obviously drunk young man, his disapproval clear. He did not like the leering way the young man was following Gwen's movements, not one bit. "Gwen is not a _chick_. She is a _woman_. She is _also_ in a _very_ committed relationship," he added firmly. "And it is not polite for you to look at her like that, either, or to call her by such names." 

The lecture was more for the young man's sake than for Gwen's. Normally mild-mannered in the extreme, there were some things Gwen simply could not stand. She might let a leering look pass with nothing more than an icy glare, but the last man to take liberties with her had gotten a lot more. He had grabbed her 'bum' as she walked past, making some _very _distasteful comments. Gwen had calmly placed her tray on an unoccupied table and politely requested an apology. When one had not been immediately forthcoming, she had half-carried the transgressor from the bar. Cole had not followed her, but he had clearly heard her requesting Mel's permission to 'bounce his skull off the pavement a few times'. He firmly believed that Gwen would have, too, if Mel had allowed it.

Another young man punched the drunk one on the shoulder. "_Told_ you it was a promise-ring, man." He looked up at Cole apologetically. "Ignore him. He has a thing for unattainable women."

Cole smiled and nodded the way Mel did when she did not quite follow but wanted him to think she did. "Congratulations," he repeated. "Enjoy your drinks," he added, turning to leave.

The front door opened and a woman, heavily wrapped against the cold outside, hurried in, glancing over her shoulder. She bumped into Cole, looked up, let out a short yelp, and staggered backwards. Startled, Cole gently grasped her shoulder to steady her. That brief contact was all he needed to tell him that this woman was a fugitive. 

Shocked, Cole acted by instinct. Since the break-in and murder at the Watchfire a few weeks ago, he had been on edge. It had made it impossible for him to ignore or minimize the fact that they were both completely vulnerable, especially Mel. The fugitives knew them, knew where they lived. The thought of one coming here scared him for Mel's sake and angered him even more. Mel must _not_ be allowed to suffer because of his presence in her life. He was no longer comfortable leaving her alone, and the Collector had become a constant companion, Tracking or not. Not stopping to think about the sixteen men and women currently in a position to witness it, Cole tightened his grip and the fugitive's shoulder and raised his Collector.

Talking to Gwen, Jonas was aware that something was wrong before any of the other patrons. Whatever she had been about to say was cut off mid-syllable and her cheerful expression vanished, replaced by a look of appalled horror mingled with a healthy dose of irritation. He looked over his shoulder, wondering what had affected her so, and nearly missed what she did next. Not that it was easy to miss a tiny creature like Gwen planting both hands on the surface of the bar and then vaulting _over_ it with easily fifteen feet of clearance.

He swiveled on his bar-stool, stunned. His surprise and confusion grew as Gwen crossed the barroom, faster than should have been humanly possible, and jumped up to grab Cole's raised hand. Cole let out a yelp of protest as she pulled his arm back over his shoulder, producing an audible popping noise in the suddenly-silent bar. She plucked something out of his hand, spun him around and shoved, propelling him the rest of the way across the bar. Following closely, she pushed him into the corner, shoulder first, the action forcing the joint back into place. Cole stared down at the girl, stunned. Not that Jonas could blame him.

Gwen shoved the Collector into her back pocket, staring up at him angrily and keeping one hand firmly on his shoulder, bracing him against the wall. Cole was too confused by the sudden assault from the wrong direction to resist. Amazingly, there was absolutely no menace in Gwen's manner, just annoyance. The fugitive was standing like a statue, regarding the exchange with wide eyes. No danger from _that_ quarter, either, it seemed. He returned his attention to Gwen, glaring up at him in disgust.

"_Are you out of your mind?_" Gwen hissed, shaking her head. As he struggled to compose some answer to that, she continued, never raising her voice above a harsh whisper. "Damned trigger-happy Cirronians! Fifteen potential witnesses, Kedriss Daggon! _Fifteen_ of them! And _you_ want to drop this woman?" Shaking her head in disgust, Gwen took a step backwards, releasing her hold on Cole and shaking her head. Typical Cirronian, not the least bit worried about generating a dead body in front of civilian witnesses. "Besides," she added in a more normal tone, nodding towards the obviously shell-shocked fugitive. "You can't. She's with child."

Cole rubbed his shoulder, sore from the way Gwen had forced it into a position it had no business being in, and stared at her in surprise. "Gwen?"

Gwen shrugged, suddenly looking far younger than her twenty-two years. Shaking her head, she stared at the floor, scuffing her feet. "You want to hear what she has to say, I guarantee it." She nodded and glanced up at him again, her expression firm. "Bring her upstairs. Get her a glass of water. She'll need it after the scare you gave her."

Cole blinked. This was not a side of Gwen he had ever seen before. Firm, confident, and in absolute control of the situation, she was not about to take no for an answer. Much that had been confusing about Gwen in the past was beginning to fall into place. The ease with which she had relieved him of his Collector spoke to years of training. The strength of her grip, to say nothing of her amazing little display of acrobatics, could only mean that she was _not_ human. 

He looked up and into Mel's eyes. Beautiful eyes, but full of fear and confusion. She must have returned at some point just before the fugitive had entered, in time to see every move Gwen had made. Mel stood motionless near the back entrance, not making a sound.

"Sixteen potential witnesses, Gwen," he told her gently, testing a theory. 

"Seventeen," Gwen corrected him absently. "I stand by the original figure," she added, never taking her eyes from him. "Miss Porter and I can be trusted to keep our mouths shut."

Cole nodded. Enixian. It at least explained her frequent migraines. And how she had known that a heavily-wrapped woman without a noticeably bulging stomach was pregnant. He returned to the fugitive, raising his hand to her face. She submitted to his probing search without protest.

"Jenin?" he whispered, stunned. And alarmed. The Nodulian's life-force was incredibly weak.

She nodded weakly. "I need your help, sir," she murmured.

She needed medical attention, he thought. She _was_ with child, as Gwen had contended, and very close to her time. She was also quite weak. He paused, indecisive, as Mel moved to join them.

Gwen shook her head and glanced at Cole. "Bring her upstairs. Give her some water," she directed again. "She can _not_ afford to be recognized." Ignoring the way Mel, and Jonas by the bar, were gaping at her, she continued. "A bath might not be amiss either if you can lay hands on some zinc salts to dissolve in the water."

"Gwen," Mel began, her voice suspicious.

All eyes went to the fugitive as she swayed on her feet. Gwen moved first, lifting the Nodulian effortlessly into her arms and moving her to the closest of the couches along the wall. She had her cell-phone out in the next heart-beat, dialing as Cole leaned over Jenin.

Gwen looked up at Mel. "There are too many people here. Can we bring her upstairs?"

Mel nodded slowly. "Uh, sure. Gwen, what's going on here?" she asked quietly.

"Long story," Gwen told her, shrugging. "Táhirih, there you are!" she said into the phone. "Love of the gods, I was starting to think you were out. Yeah, that would be a _bad_ thing. Look, I need you to drop by the Watchfire ASAP. Bring some of that zinc solution you keep on hand for Nodulians and whatever you need to do a physical once-over on one. No, negative. Not, and I say again _not_, one of ours. I've got a _very_ pregnant fugitive here in questionable physical shape. Possibly drugged… Yes, Táhirih. Yeah, you could say that… It was necessary. Just get over here, hmm? Yeah, thanks." Gwen nodded and hung up, glancing at Cole. "Take her upstairs before anyone gets too good a look at her face," she ordered firmly.

Mel and Cole both stared. Gwen giving orders was, as far as they were concerned, _not_ the norm. Still, she did it with the ease of long practice, her tone demanding compliance and her manner clearly indicating that she expected it. Shrugging, Cole gathered Jenin into his arms and carried her up the apartment stairwell.

"Start talking," Mel told Gwen.

  
"Here? _Now_?" Gwen asked, shaking her head. "I think not, Miss Porter. Later. In private."

Mel blinked. It was the closest Gwen had _ever_ come to contradicting her. "Later in private?" she repeated.

"Yeah. Right now, I think damage control is more called for."

Mel stared after her as she walked to the table by the door, an easy smile on her face. Shaking her head, she returned to the bar, not sure what else _to_ do. Gwen was right and damage control probably _was_ necessary. Fifteen men and women had seen Cole having an altercation with a girl who could not have been twenty yet, and had seen Gwen forestall it with superhuman displays of strength and agility. Not that any of them were equipped with the proper frame of reference to _recognize_ her actions as inhuman, but they were still likely to raise questions.

"Dare I ask?" Jonas inquired gently, noting that Mel still seemed unsettled.

"Um…" Mel thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Work. Cole's job…"

Jonas nodded, accepting this without comment. Cole was some kind of federal agent and therefore entitled to occasionally unexplainable behaviors. Where sweet little Gwen Angelo fit into that picture he was not even going to _ask_. Some things were _definitely _best left unspoken.

"You okay, sweetie?" he asked Mel gently, patting her hand.

Mel nodded. "Just fine, Jonas."

"You look a little shaken."

"Trust me, I've had stranger things than _that_ happen to me since I met Cole," Mel assured him honestly. 

She gave a dismissive shrug and looked up to where Gwen was lightly chatting with the group by the door and resolved to have a _very_ long chat with Gwen quite soon.

"Sorry 'bout that," Gwen told them cheerfully, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. She smiled serenely around the table, her eyes settling on the twerp who had been hitting on her earlier. He was regarding her with a _lot_ more respect now, and it had nothing to do with Cole's little lecture about being polite. "Guess my doc was right about downing espresso shots with my new meds. Though what _else_ a girl is meant to do during finals week is really beyond me, you know?" she rambled on blithely. 

Spin-doctoring rule number one, if you act like something out of the ordinary has happened, then they will know that it _has_. Never let them see you ruffled and never deny _anything_. Any psychologist could tell you that unless a big deal is made of an incident, an eye-witness will tend to minimize it in his mind. Gwen knew that and she knew that the reverse was true as well. If she had rushed to explain away the whole thing as a misunderstanding and no big deal, they would have known that a big deal was _precisely_ what it had been.

"Of course, I really should have factored in the caffeine from all that chocolate, too, I guess." Gwen gave a ditzy giggle. "Sugar always gives me a buzz, too, actually." She covered her mouth with one hand. "Oops." 

Another giggle. The young men were staring now, what they had seen between Cole and Jenin set aside in favor of what they had seen between Cole and _Gwen_. And since a big boy like Cole could take care of himself, they would sober up and be _sure_ that they had imagined much of that and blown the rest out of proportion. After all, how was a girl Gwen's size supposed to manhandle a man like Cole Hauser around the bar? Being easily underestimated definitely had its advantages. 

"I mean, _triple whammy_… Between that and the PMS. Whoa… You boys are going to be doctors. Why haven't they invented a cure for that yet?" Gwen asked, putting her hands on her slim hips and pouting at the young men. 

Come to think of it, being female had its share of advantages, too. James would have been appalled and accused her of setting back the women's lib movement by years. Kettai would have been hard put upon to keep from laughing out loud.

***

Jonas was just leaving as Táhirih Gibbons walked into the bar, carrying a small duffel-bag over one shoulder. She was wearing faded and worn jeans instead of her ever-present business-suit, and her black hair hung loose instead of being pulled back. She had obviously come in a hurry. She nodded politely to Jonas whom she had met a few times in the past, then hurried over to Gwen.

"Where is she? Is it her? Are you sure?" she hissed at the girl.

"No. There are actually _two_ pregnant Nodulians running around Chicago, Táhirih! Of _course_ it is her!" Gwen snapped, clearly exasperated. 

Since Jonas was the last customer to leave, Mel locked the front door and put up the 'closed' sign, suspecting that she was going to have other things to concern herself with tonight.

"Who is 'her'?" Mel asked, hoping she sounded more firm than she felt.

"A Nodulian fugitive named Jenin," Gwen told her. "Miss Porter, you know my friend Táhirih?" 

Mel nodded. Doctor Gibbons worked near the bar and frequently dropped by for a few minutes to chat with Gwen or just to have a drink. She was quiet, friendly, and never ordered anything stronger than black coffee. "We've, um… met, yeah. Gwen, I want some answers now…"

Gwen shook her head. "More important matters right now. You've got a fugitive upstairs and she's in _very_ bad shape. Not to mention a great deal of danger. Shall we?" she asked, gesturing towards the stairwell. 

With a resigned sigh, knowing that answers would be some time coming, Mel nodded and ushered Gwen and Táhirih up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2 -- Mother's Plea

Cole carried the fugitive up the stairs and gently settled her on the couch. "Rest here," he directed gently, walking into the kitchen and returning with a glass and a pitcher of water from the refrigerator. "I'm sorry I scared you in the bar," he told her gently, pouring her a glass of water and pressing it into her hands. "You startled me and I reacted by instinct."

She nodded slowly, accepting the glass and staring up at him with large eyes, eyes too big for her thin face.

"No harm will come to you here, Jenin," Cole promised, sitting down on the coffee table in front of her. When she had emptied the glass, he refilled it. Leaving the pitcher on the table, he walked into the kitchen again.

Cole waited in silence as Jenin drained three more glasses of water, drawing most of it into her lungs. When she had finished, he pressed a cup of mint tea into her hands. She was obviously nervous and he hoped that the tea would help. She gave him a wan smile as she accepted it. Cole watched her sip at the tea, curious. Her human host was young, not more than eighteen, _if_ that old, and sick-looking. In spite of her advanced pregnancy, she was painfully skinny. Her skin was sallow, her eyes sunken, her manner anxious. She was beautiful, as pregnant women always were to him, but her beauty called more for pity than admiration.

He gently touched her throat again, his expression reassuring. He had always liked Jenin, felt very sorry for her. He could not help but consider life on Sar-Top too harsh a sentence for a crime he had once contemplated committing himself. She looked up at him with wide, pale eyes, her expression bespeaking gratitude for his kindness. 

"Thank you, sir," she said quietly, eyeing him uneasily. 

He dismissed her thanks with a shake of his head. He probably would have Collected her if it had not been for Gwen. As it was, he could not do anything _but_ help her. "Why have you come?"

"I… I need your help, sir."

"Tell me everything, Jenin," Cole directed gently. "It's okay. I'll do what I can to help you. I promise."

She took a deep breath and considered where to begin. She shook her head and rested one hand on her stomach. "Zin wants my child, sir. I… I can't let him take her."

Cole blinked, startled. "_Your_ child?" he prompted gently. "Your host's child?"

  
Jenin gave a little shake of the head. "_Mine_, sir. Conceived after I took this human's body." She bowed her head.

Cole closed his eyes, suddenly feeling horribly cold all over. As he recalled, Jenin had been informally mated to another of Sar-Top's inmates. Not just _any_ inmate, either. "_Kres_ was the father?" he whispered.

"Yes." She nodded. "Zin told me that you…"

"Collected him." Cole nodded apologetically. "I _had_ to, Jenin. His human body was dying."

Jenin regarded him gravely, her expression sad. "Then… I thank you for his life." She wiped her eyes, her face set in a defiant expression. She inhaled deeply and squared her shoulders. "I thank you for his life and would ask another, similar, favor."

Cole regarded her uncertainly. "_Your_ life, Jenin?"

  
She shook her head slowly. "My life means little to me any more, sir. I ask only for the life of our daughter."

Cole drew in a deep breath, feeling nauseous. He flatly refused to let his mind turn to Ashi. "Does Zin plan on harming her, then?"

She bowed her head and slowly nodded. "He… believes that… parents residing in human hosts… the genetic variance… their children will have all of the strengths and none of the weaknesses. He plans on experimenting on her, seeing if this is the case. He seems to think that the human genes are somehow key, important… There's something of the race he wants; none of us know what, though. He has geneticists, biologists, physiologists… They keep doing all these tests on me… and he's trying to cross-breed the other fugitives. Across species, even."

Cole stared. Zin had gone from playing at being a crime-lord to playing at being a god. It could not be allowed. "Is it working?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm the only fugitive so far who's been able to conceive. The… process of taking a human host mutates certain genes by necessity. It seems to almost invariably result in sterility." She sighed. "It's not stopping Zin, though. He… he has us experimenting with gene-therapy, trying to correct that."

Cole shook his head. "Jenin…" He regarded the Nodulian geneticist sadly, shaking his head. Asking her to do that, after all she had lost, all Zin threatened to take from her… It was beyond wrong. "Has he harmed you in any way?" he asked gently.

She shook her head. "Once he found out I was with child, he… he moved me into his home so he could keep closer watch on me. He's taken very good care of me, given me everything I could need or want. He's very attentive and solicitous, almost as if I were carrying _his_ child. He takes good care of both of us, the right foods, the best doctors, nice things. Everything. Except…"

"Except that the price is too high." Cole sighed and slid his arms around her. "For you of all people, the price is just too high."

She nodded, leaning into him. "If it were any other Tracker after us fugitives, I probably would have gone to ground instead of coming here. You… I knew you would understand. I'm not asking for my own freedom or even my life. But my daughter must _not_ be allowed to suffer."

"She won't," Cole promised, tenderly kissing her forehead. "I promise you. I'll do everything in my power to protect both of you."

"She can not be born in a human hospital," Jenin told him softly. "The ultrasounds reveal that she has certain… _characteristics_… gills, a vestigial dorsal fin…"

Cole stared at her, stunned. "She looks Nodulian?" Nodulian parents in human hosts should _not_ have been capable of producing Nodulian offspring. No wonder Zin was interested.

Jenin nodded. "At least, I _think_ she does. It's hard to say with how primitive imaging technology on this planet is. But she is _definitely_ not going to be born looking human."

"That complicates things," Cole told her softly. "I'm not sure if I can help you deliver her myself." 

He had witnessed one Nodulian birth in his life and _might_ have been able to assist in one as a result. But a Nodulian woman inside a human host? All bets were off. Too many things could go wrong with the mother _and_ the child. Human complications, Nodulian ones, complications resulting from the fusion of human and Nodulian traits… Too many risks even under the idealized circumstance of a Nodulian physician delivering the child as Zin probably would have arranged. A human physician, without so much as an _awareness_ that his species was not alone in the universe, would be even more clueless. And once the child was born, she might need specialized care… Too many variables, none of which he could count on. His head was spinning.

"Is there another choice?" Jenin asked quietly.

"Yes," a quiet voice contributed from the hall. "There is."

"Gwen?" Cole said, regarding her uncertainly. Gwen, Mel, and Gwen's friend Táhirih stood in the hallway outside the living room. 

"Tracker Kedriss Daggon." Gwen nodded and smiled wanly. "Gwynlyn Moiré Angelo."

Cole half-rose, staring at her. He had not known that Gwen was just a nickname, had always assumed it to be her full name. Gwynlyn was an Enixian word; it meant dark radiance. Fitting for a woman with a life-force like Gwen's. "You're not human?" he asked even though he was sure of the answer after her earlier display. 

She was undeniably Enixian in so many ways that it was a wonder he had not seen it before. His only real question was what she was doing on Earth now. She was _not_ a fugitive, of that he was sure. Which made her either a mercenary in Zin's service, a Migar security agent or scientist, or…

"_Half_ human."

The hybrid child of one. Cole approached her slowly, regarding her thoughtfully for a moment before smiling and nodding. No wonder talking to her so often felt like going home. He smiled gently down at her. "Take out your contacts," he directed gently, turning off the light.

Mel was watching the display with wide eyes, stunned.

Gwen nodded and took them out, looking up at him. Her pupils were narrow sideways slits, like those of a cat, and her emerald green irises glowed in the darkness. Mel stared, amazed. She had not even known that Gwen _wore_ contacts, let alone that her eyes were not black.

"Beautiful," Cole whispered, smiling and touching her cheek. 

"I have my mother's eyes," she explained simply.

"Your mother? Moiré Nisei?" Cole ventured. At her nod, his smile widened. "I was never honored to meet her, but I've read all of her work. She was widely considered one of the best exoanthropologists in the Migar Federation." 

"I know," Gwen said softly. "She made a name for herself in anthropology on this planet as well." She lowered her head and replaced the contacts.

"Cole," Mel said softly. "Can you tell me what's going on here? Gwen says this woman is a fugitive."

"The Enixian Gwynlyn is correct," Jenin told Mel softly, rising and walking over to them. "I was serving a life-term on Sar-Top for the crime of capital murder at the time of the escape." She regarded Gwen and Táhirih uneasily, not sure of their role in things.

As Mel gaped at the Nodulian, Cole quietly filled her in on why Jenin had come to him. Mel looked Jenin over as Cole spoke. She was struck by how young and afraid the fugitive looked. Her heart went out to the woman who only wanted to keep her child safe. Murderer or not, she could sympathize with a young woman who just wanted to protect her child from harm.

"You look exhausted, honey," Mel said when Cole was finished recounting everything Jenin had told him. "Come on. You can get some sleep in my room." 

"Thank you," Jenin said quietly. "I haven't been sleeping much lately."

"I can imagine." Nodding, Mel gently took her arm and steered her into the bedroom.

"I'll come as well, if you don't mind," Táhirih said, making herself heard for the first time. At Mel's nod, she followed them down the hall.

Cole looked down at Gwen. "You've known about me since the beginning?"

She nodded. "The… smell caught my attention."

He smiled and nodded. "Of course it did. And then all it took was a little research."

Gwen gave another nod. "I'm good at research. It didn't take me long."

"Your working for Mel is a coincidence?"

"Yes," Gwen said, nodding. "As unlikely as it seems, it is. I was _stunned_ the first time I met the two of you…"

Cole smiled and nodded. "Gwen, do you know very much about human and Nodulian physiology? Jenin's time grows near and I'm not sure I know enough about human physiology to be very useful…"

"It's okay," Gwen told him. "That's where Táhirih comes in. She's a doctor. Most of her patients are affiliated with the SST. Very few are human. And before she became aware of the SST, she was an obstetrician… a doctor who delivers babies."

"A midwife?" he queried, pleased. That was exactly what Jenin needed, a midwife who was intimately familiar with both human and alien physiology.

"Very similar, yes."

Cole nodded. "Then Táhirih will be able to help Jenin?"

Gwen nodded. "She will. It's why I've brought her here." 

"Can she be trusted, Gwen?" he asked gently. "This is very important to me."

She nodded. "I understand that. Táhirih is a woman I would trust with my life or she would _not_ be here now. In fact, I'll go a step farther and say that I would trust her with the life of my eventual children."

Cole nodded. It was not a claim that an Enixian woman made lightly. "Thank you, Gwen."

She nodded. "Can you keep the fugitive safe overnight?"

"I would guard her life with my own, Gwen," Cole assured her.

"Good." She nodded. "I'm going to go now. I'll set up a safe-house for you and arrange for Táhirih to have the equipment she needs available."

"Thank you, Gwen," Cole said, smiling down at her.

She shrugged. "Anything to piss off Zin."

"You know Zin?"

"By reputation only for the time being. I'm looking forward to getting the chance to kick his ass some day, though."

"Gwen, Vardians are very dangerous."

"So are hybrid Enixians with scores to settle," Gwen told him quietly. 

Before Cole could question her on that strange pronouncement, she spun on her heel and left. Shaking his head, he walked down the hall to Mel's bedroom and tapped gently on the door.

Mel opened it immediately. "Cole, could you talk to her? She won't let Táhirih near her."

Cole nodded and stepped into the bedroom. Jenin had flattened herself into a corner and was hissing at Táhirih. He approached the Nodulian and gently took her hands in his own.

"Jenin," Cole whispered tenderly. "This is Táhirih. She is a human physician who works for the Security Taskforce. The Enixian female Gwynlyn has informed me that she would trust the lives of her eventual offspring to this woman. Will you let her look at you?"

Jenin stared up at Cole for a moment, then back at Táhirih. She nodded slowly, looking back up at Cole. "Will you stay, sir?" she asked anxiously.

He nodded and gently brushed her hair out of her face. "Jenin, I won't let anything happen to _either_ of you, I swear it. This woman is here because she is trusted by someone that I have reason to trust. I won't let her harm you. I would never let anything happen to you, child."

Jenin swallowed hard and nodded. "I know you wouldn't. You take care of those who look to you."

"I do," he agreed gently, ushering her over to the bed. He looked up at Táhirih. "What are you going to do to her? What does it involve?" The question was more for Jenin's sake than to satisfy his own curiosity, although his own desire to keep the Nodulian safe factored into it as well.

Táhirih smiled reassuringly, not the least offended by the fugitive's refusal to trust her. "Well, right now just a basic physical exam. Vital signs, that sort of thing. And I want to give her stomach a feel." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small glass bottle. "Zin have your species taking anything like this, dear?" she asked, handing the bottle to Jenin.

Jenin opened it and sniffed the contents, her eyes half-closing. "Nothing so pure. We have our own methods, of course, but this is far better."

"What is it?" Mel asked.

"A zinc isotope," Táhirih told her, pulling out a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. "Best form of the mineral available for Nodulians. Commercially available supplements don't come close. Lie back, dear," she directed Jenin.

Jenin complied, but only at Cole's quiet insistence and only after he had exacted a promise from Táhirih to tell Jenin exactly what she was going to do, step by step. She spent the entire physical with a vice-grip on one of his hands, glaring mistrustfully at the human physician. Mel watched curiously, wondering about many things. Like why this fugitive was so willing to trust the man charged with bringing her back and why Cole was being so gentle and solicitous towards her. Not that she would have expected Cole to be anything but kind and gentle, but she got a sense that there was a deeper, preexisting relationship between the two, and it made her curious.

Táhirih finished her exam with a nod and looked up at Cole. "Would you, Kedriss Daggon?" she requested politely. "Cirronian input always makes these matters clearer."

Cole nodded and looked down at Jenin, squeezing her hand and brushing her hair out of her face. "I'm going to have a feel now, okay, Jenin?" he asked gently. At her little nod, he reached for the hem of her shirt. "I need to pull this up, okay?"

Mel watched, fascinated as Cole gently pulled the woman's shirt up over her stomach and let his hands hover a few millimeters away from the skin, gently murmuring to her in a language that she thought might have been Nodulian. It was not lost on Mel that Jenin was emaciated rather than merely skinny. Obviously Cole noted this as well.

"Have you been eating enough?" he asked, his hands still moving above the surface of her stomach, never making contact.

"Yes. Zin has three nutritionists assigned to my case. And I have to take all these vitamins. They're in my purse," she added. 

Táhirih rose and retrieved the bottles, perusing the labels as Cole continued his own examination. "Well, I'd say they have you on all the right prenatal formulas given your status. What's your caloric intake?" she asked.

"Thirty-five hundred daily," Jenin said softly. "I can't gain weight." She looked up at Cole. "Have you found her yet, sir?"

Cole smiled gently down at her, one hand moving to caress her throat. "Just relax so I can get a good reading. You're so upset that she is growing distressed as well, Jenin, and that will _not_ do." He moved his hand to her forehead for a moment, releasing soothing energy before returning to his caresses of her throat.

She nodded and closed her eyes under his touch.

"_There_ she is," Cole whispered, smiling. "Be calm, Jenin. I'm going to touch your stomach now. Don't worry." At her nod, he gently rested both hands on her stomach, his smile widening. "Hello, little one," he whispered, half closing his eyes. "Look at you. You're ready to join us in the great outside soon, aren't you?" 

Mel smiled as she watched Cole quietly speaking. His tone and expression were both absolutely beautiful. Either alone would have made her heart flutter. Together, she just about melted. Táhirih looked entranced herself.

"_Strong_ life-force," he observed, smiling and nodding to himself. Jenin's life-force was depleted, but she was in no immediate danger, even if she _was_ very weak. The baby, she had the life-force of a fighter. He mentally reached a little more deeply, frowning. "These tests Zin's been performing on you, Jenin? They've been putting _needles_ into you, haven't they? Into your stomach?"

Jenin nodded. "It's a human test called amniocentesis."

"It allows them to look at a child's DNA," Táhirih explained.

Cole frowned. "She does _not_ like it."

Jenin half-sat up, gaping at him. "She _told_ you?" she whispered, staring.

He shook his head, smiling faintly. "Only _mother_ Cirronians can talk with unborn children. And then only their own. But I can feel her distaste for the procedure and her fear that it will happen again. It causes you pain and physical trauma."

Jenin nodded and leaned back again. "Yeah, it does."

Táhirih spoke again, her voice quiet. "It's typically only used in high-risk cases. I mean, I would have to say that this applies as high-risk, on _many_ levels, but…" Táhirih frowned, shaking her head. 

Jenin had numerous needle-marks on her stomach. Zin was many things, but an idiot was not one of those. You did _not_ go around repeatedly sticking needles into a pregnant woman's uterus without damned good cause. Once he _had_ an idea of the child's genetics, what was the point? The only explanation was that this was _not_ a typical pregnancy, not by the standards of any species. There was something else going on, though she could not imagine what.

Cole shook his head. He nodded and gently caressed Jenin's stomach, healing the bruises and needle-marks as his hands passed. "She's a healthy child, Jenin. Strong." He smiled at her, rising. "And _very_ ready to come into the world."

"How long do I have?" she asked anxiously.

Táhirih looked up at the question, her expression curious.

"Not more than 3 days. Probably less."

"You can tell all that by touching her stomach?" Mel asked, amazed. Just when she thought that Cole was done doing things to amaze her.

Cole nodded. "We should let Jenin rest now," he suggested gently.

Táhirih wordlessly gathered her things and slipped from the room, already mentally preparing a list of tests and procedures that she would need to perform on the Nodulian if her people could not get access to the results of the tests Zin had done. There was no way she was walking into this particular delivery blind.

Mel nodded and picked up a blanket, covering the Nodulian. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything at all," she promised gently.

Jenin nodded and smiled slightly. "Thank you. Both of you."

"You're welcome, honey," Mel told her.

"Sleep peacefully, Jenin," Cole told her gently. "I won't let Zin or any of his people near you. You can sleep without fear."

She smiled more confidently, nodding. "Thank you."

Cole sat on the edge of the bed, taking one of her hands in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Neither of us will let any harm befall you or the child," he promised. Smiling reassuringly, he bent and kissed her forehead. "Sleep peacefully," he repeated. He sighed and gave her another kiss, this one on the cheek. 

Shaking his head, he rose and followed Mel from the room. Zin's involvement in the affair was troubling to him. The Vardian was no geneticist and, if he was dabbling in the area, it could only be because there was some material gain to be had. That the Taskforce had also been following Jenin's case bore out his assumption. Whatever Zin was playing at, it was big. And more likely than not very, _very_ dangerous…


	3. Chapter 3

****

Chapter 3 -- Discovery

Zin sighed deeply as he entered the living quarters of the estate, ignoring his security people as they greeted him. It had been a very _long_ day and he wanted nothing more than to get a drink, spend some time with Jenin, perhaps get a back-rub, and then _rest_. 

"Doctor Zin," Lana greeted him, walking up to him with a clipboard in one hand and a scotch in the other. She passed the glass to Zin and fell into step beside him.

Zin smiled approvingly. He definitely had to give her points for being attentive. His mood improved immediately as it so frequently did in the other Vardian's presence. "Child."

Lana shook her head faintly. Zin seldom called her that unless he was in a playful mood. It had always driven his wife crazy. More reason for her to appreciate the title. "How was your day?" she asked, following him into his office.

He sighed and shook his head. "Haag has managed to foul up our Op in England _again_."

"What you get for letting an Orsusian do a Vardian's job," Lana told him flatly. Any of his other subordinates would have been inviting their own death with such a statement, and Lana knew it. She poured herself a drink as he settled down behind his desk.

Zin sighed. "Haag is yet useful to me, Lana."

  
"When he is _not_ irretrievably fouling up important tasks," Lana murmured. 

Zin glared at her. "Get me another drink," he ordered.

Lana shrugged and complied. "I have the results on the latest round of testing on Jenin," she informed him, handing him the drink and sitting on the desk in front of him.

Zin's expression at finding a very attractive female situated directly in front of him was one of complete disinterest. "Oh? And how _is_ my favorite Nodulian?"

"Ready to pop, to coin the human phrase."

"A very _vulgar_ human phrase," he observed mildly, shaking his head and patting her knee.

"So it is," she agreed, nodding. "You had a transmission from your wife," she added absently, leaning round him to retrieve it. "Your firstborn was just accepted to the Migar Academy of Science."

Zin smiled widely. "Ah, wonderful news." 

"He's young for the honor. He'll be ready to join us in executing your plan before much longer," Lana noted mildly. "I'll give your wife this, her genotype is _decidedly_ superior, even if her phenotype leaves a fair amount to be desired."

Zin ignored the comment. Lana had no more affection for his wife than Etala had for the young scientist. The two had been at each other's throats constantly for years now. The hundred light years of distance between them had done wonders for the relationship between them and for Zin's sanity.

"What other news of home?"

"The usual. The children miss you, Etala wishes you all luck in _whatever_ it is that you are up to here and prays a speedy return. Varda is unseasonably warm and your groundskeepers are having a hard time dealing with it." Lana shrugged and handed him the text of the message for perusal at his leisure. 

"Thank you." Zin placed the message to one side, under a glass paperweight strategically tinted to look like a globe of Varda. "Now, on to more important matters."

Lana nodded and returned her attention to the clipboard, her expression grim. "Our latest round of gene-therapy has resulted in five deaths. Three male foot-soldiers, a male breeder, and a female."

Zin sighed and shook his head. "And the others?"

"No noticeable changes in any of them. All are still sterile; all still manifest the same species-specific weaknesses."

He closed his eyes and growled, "What are we _missing_?"

"I don't know," Lana confessed, closing her own eyes. "This human DNA acts like a wildcard. It _never_ bonds to fugitive DNA in the same way. Species abilities or weaknesses are stronger in some than in others, integration into the host takes place at different speeds, sometimes rejection occurs… then you have cases like Jenin and Kres. And with those, we don't know if it's the fugitive or the human host behind it. Either way, though, it results in _perfect_ integration and fusion."

"It _can't_ be perfect or the child would be human," Zin sighed, shaking his head. "Or _at least_ half human." They had had this conversation in the past, too many times to count.

"She _did_ start out that way," Lana pointed out. "Or _seemed_ to."

"She still mutating?"

Lana shook her head and handed him the results from the latest round of amniocentesis. "Don't ask me what these results _make_ her, Zin, but she's no human."

"How is it possible?" he sighed, shaking his head.

"According to our biologists, the mother's hormones are activating latent human DNA."

"And turning the girl into a _Nodulian_…" He shook his head. "You know what that means, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Computer models tell us that the same would occur in any other species. Humans have an absolutely ridiculous amount of junk DNA which is, apparently, not junk at all. A human has it in him at conception to become a member of _any_ Migar species. All that's needed is a non-human parent or enough of a given species' DNA to trigger the changes necessary to awaken the dormant genes."

Zin considered this, shaking his head. "And here I always considered this species an evolutionary mistake…"

"More like an escaped lab project," she scoffed. "Mongrels."

Zin nodded his agreement. "Mongrels, yes, but with great potential. They prove that it is possible to harness traits from all six species and meld them into one package."

"We could breed an army of warriors superior to anything the Vardian warrior caste has _ever_ turned out." Lana smiled faintly. "Lovely."

Zin smiled at her obvious enthusiasm for the idea. That was his Lana, all right. "Of course, things like that take time," he pointed out. "At present I'm more interested in using gene therapy to _quickly_ bring about this fusion of traits."  


Lana nodded. Zin was not exactly known for his patience. But, then, what Vardian _was_, really? "Of course."  


"And, of course, the first step to breeding an army is breeding a single child. How are they?"

"They were well when I left them this afternoon. Jenin was tired and retired for a nap. I've had people in to check on her every few hours."

Zin nodded his approval. "And she is well?"

"As well as can be expected. There's no reason to expect that she will not survive long enough to deliver the child. I have the doctor on standby."

Zin nodded sharply. "Wonderful. Inform me when she wakes. I want to visit her."

"I can wake her now," Lana offered, rising.

Zin shook his head, catching her hand and pulling her to sit on the arm of his chair. "She requires sleep, my dear."

The door burst inwards before Lana could reply. "Doctor Lana!"

When one of Zin's people walked in on a conference between Zin and Lana without knocking, it was a sign that something was badly wrong somewhere. Both knew it, too. The last time someone had intruded on them, it had been to report that Yhir had been taken. At Zin's nod of permission, Lana rose and swept out of the office.

"What?" she demanded, scowling at him. "This had _better_ be important…" she threatened.

He spoke quickly, in a low, fearful voice and Lana felt the blood drain from her face. She nodded and dismissed him before returning to Zin's office, unsteady on her feet and feeling as if she had just been punched in the stomach.

"Everything okay, Lana?" Zin inquired as the door opened again. Seeing the look on her face, he jumped to his feet and was at her side in an instant, sliding an arm around her and helping her into a chair. He crouched in front of her, taking one of her hands in both of his. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, genuinely concerned for his young protégé. 

Not looking at him, she whispered, "Jenin's gone. She's pulled a runner."

She was expecting the blow and did nothing to duck it. Zin snarled, more angered by her quiet acceptance than he would have been if she had fought. He had _never_ struck Lana before, and was feeling pretty bad about that. If she had hit him back, everything would have been well.

"She took her vitamins and several hundred dollars in cash," Lana reported quietly, ignoring the blood that was now trickling down the side of her face. She looked up at him. "Will she hurt the child to keep us from getting it, Zin?" she asked in a low, serious voice.

Zin scoffed and shook his head. "She is a _mother_, Lana. You have not yet been given an opportunity to have offspring of your own, so you may not understand everything that entails. Allow a man with several children of his own to assure you that she would die rather than see that child hurt."

Lana considered this for a moment, then nodded sharply. Her mind began to work. "A clean head-shot. The child can be extracted post-mortem, problem solved."

Zin shook his head. "No. Not until we figure out what it is about her that allows her to conceive. We need her alive until then. In case something happens to the child. How do we keep her here captive _and_ in a condition to give us more children?"

"Neurodebilitator. A strong enough setting will render her catatonic. She can be sustained with IV nutrients and continue to bear offspring until her body wears out. By then, we should have a clearer understanding of what makes her unique. Hopefully we'll even have found a few more like her."

Zin nodded. "Good. That makes sense, Lana. It's a good plan."

"Now we just need to find her."

Zin sighed and shook his head, gently wiping away some of the blood trickling down her face. "I know _exactly_ where she's gone, Lana," he told her, absently licking his finger clean.

Lana looked up, startled by the pronouncement. "Sir?"

Zin walked over to a cabinet near his desk and extracted a first-aid kit. Returning to where Lana was seated, he pulled up a chair and set about patching up the gash on her head where his ring had torn the skin.

"Where would you go?" Zin asked as he cleaned away the worst of the blood with a square of gauze.

"Alaska. It's cold and bound by water on three sides."

He smiled faintly. Trust Lana to take a literal approach to a hypothetical situation. "Closer to home, dear. Given all available data."

Lana's head shot up. "The Tracker. Of course. Similar personal histories, idealism, sympathy, and a habit of letting fugitives walk…"

"Exactly." Zin nodded bitterly.

"_Wonderful._ How are we supposed to get her back?"

He shook his head. "I don't know yet. We'll find a way. It could have been worse, though. She _could_ have gone to the Taskforce."

"What's to keep the Tracker from doing just that?" Lana asked.

Zin closed his eyes, thinking. There was no reason to suspect that Daggon knew that there was a Taskforce presence on Earth, but no proof that he did _not_, either. Retrieving Jenin from Daggon would have been an easy matter. Taskforce involvement would complicate matters considerably. They were consummate professionals and, since they worked in complete secrecy, no one knew the first thing about how they operated. Which meant that it was hard to work against them. Unless you happened to have an expert on them in your employ.

Zin looked up at Lana, his expression grim. "Get me Thaler."

"Yes, sir." Lana nodded placidly and started to rise.

Zin caught her hand, shaking his head. "Let me finish bandaging this up first, dear," he ordered gently. "You know, I--"

"I know, sir," Lana said, cutting off the apology before it could become one. Men like Zin should not have to apologize to anyone for anything. Ever. She held still as Zin finished patching up her cut and submitted without protest when he spent several moments caressing her face. When his appreciative scrutiny of her pretty face turned into a look of almost paternal regard, she frowned and asked, "Are you done, sir?"

Zin nodded and rose, putting away the first-aid kit. "Get me Thaler," he reminded her. "Where is he these days, anyway?" 

"He oversees your Southwestern operations. Shuttles between New Mexico and Nevada," Lana provided without hesitation. 

She could name and give the location of _any_ of the fugitives or mercenaries in Zin's service instantly. It was one of the many advantages that her eidetic memory and high IQ gave her. She was a perfect second to him, a truly gifted scientist and incredibly talented administrator. She also had the gift of controlling even the most hardened criminals using fear alone. Even threats were seldom necessary. She had been a lucky find on his part and he had recognized her potential even before he had started hatching his plans. The association had proved valuable for _both_ of them.

"I want him in Chicago by this time tomorrow," he ordered as she left.

Lana turned, smiling slyly at him. "He'll be here by tonight," she promised, winking.

  
Zin laughed and shook his head as she left. She could _always_ improve his mood. He sipped at his drink and turned his attention to the reports Lana had brought him. After a few moments, he picked up his phone and dialed quickly. 

"I need to talk to Doctor Kells. Not in?" he repeated, disgusted at the doctor's timing. "He is _supposed_ to be _on call_! You tell him Zin called!" he snarled. "And tell him that if he's not standing in front of me in _one hour_…" he trailed off, leaving the threat open. He slammed the phone down without waiting for a response. Jenin was going to pay for this. "Damn her," he muttered, rising and stalking out of the office. 

***

James Ethan Angelo had made his living teaching anthropology, and Gwen knew that her lack of interest in the field always annoyed him. After all, _both_ of her parents had been anthropologists where only one of his had. It only made sense that _she_ should have been the one to grow up and into a love of the science. Not Gwen, though. She knew that she had been born for something else entirely.

James had been born not quite thirty years earlier to Ben and Karen Angelo. Karen had died a few months later, leaving Ben to raise their son alone. James had been four when Ben, also an anthropology professor, had married Moiré Nisei, a touring lecturer at the time. A few years later, she had become pregnant. James and Gwen had adored each other, in spite of their obvious differences. Species was not the greatest of those differences, not by a long-shot.

The eight year old seemed unfazed by the fact that his new mommy and his baby sister were not human. Like Gwen herself, James grew up aware of the existence of alien life in the universe, and with an awareness that a group dedicated to ensuring galactic security functioned on his home planet. He respected them for the sacrifices they made. For Gwen, that was not enough. She took respect a step further. She wanted to _be_ one of them. 

In spite of the age-gap, James and Gwen had always been best friends. When Ben and Moiré Angelo died in a car accident when James was seventeen, he had gotten together with a lawyer friend of his father's and seen to it that he got custody of nine-year-old Gwen. He raised his sister until she turned 18, and lived with her after that until she moved in with her Cirronian fiancé. Even then, he had always been there for her, offering her financial and emotional support. They remained best friends.

Until a prison-break half a galaxy away chanced to take Gwen's last living relative from her. James, on his way back from visiting some friends in Wisconsin, had the misfortune to find himself on train 805 just in time to end up as a host for one of the escapees. Thaler, a Vardian organized crime figure, had ended up in James' body and, consequently, with a solid knowledge of Taskforce operations on Earth. A great deal of damage had been done in those first months.

It had taken almost a week for anyone to connect the disappearance of James Angelo to the Sar-Top escape. Gwen had refused to believe it until shown surveillance photos of 'James' and Zin. She lost a best friend, a brother, _and_ a father that day, and had applied to be issued a Collector the very next. Gwen swore that she was going to bury her brother before the new year, and she _meant_ it. Every minute not spent working, studying, or on her contract duties with the Taskforce was spent trying to track down the Vardian scum who had taken her brother from her. 

When she had, by sheer dumb luck, found herself working for a woman closely connected with the Tracker sworn to bring back the Sar-Top fugitives, she had been _thrilled_. Intelligence-gathering techniques took on a new application. Her superior hearing allowed her to overhear more than one private conversation. Her innocent manner allowed her to occasionally worm information out of Daggon without seeming to do so. Their discussions of criminal psychology served a like purpose: he found out more about the psyche and likely behavior of his fugitives and Gwen discovered which fugitive he was after in a given week. When Mel and Cole had gone off together for a weekend Tracking a pair of Orsusian assassins, Gwen had intimately familiarized herself with his War-room and had uploaded a number of pertinent files. Under other circumstances, she would have felt bad about picking the locks and letting herself in. As it was, she had been more concerned with recovering information that the Taskforce was unable to provide to her. It really was amazing what he was able to do without the least bit of material support from Migar. Her estimation of him only increased after that.

It was a large part of the reason why she did not mind bending certain rules and helping him out from time to time. This time was no exception, except that Kettai was actually, for the first time in their relationship, angry about it.

"You're out of your mind!" he shouted, shaking his head. "You could have gotten yourself Collected, woman!"

"Oh, so I was supposed to let Daggon Collect Jenin? Generate a dead body in front of almost a score of witnesses? Let the _child_ die?" She scoffed and shook her head. "Let's try to remember that this whole situation has the Taskforce freaked, too. Zin going on a… damned Mengele trip is the last thing they need, especially if he succeeds."

"Gwynlyn…"

"Don't even start on how I'm too close to this." She shook her head firmly. "You know I'm right. You know this is important."

"Of _course_ it's important. But there are other considerations…"

She shook her head. "No. There aren't. Táhirih and I are both civilian contractors. The same rules don't apply to us and we _can_ do this alone if we have to."

He shook his head. "I'll get you the safe-house."

"Hospital?"

"That's going to take more work. Zin has people in _most_ local hospitals."

"So does the Taskforce. Work around it."

"Is this about Jenin or Zin?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Does it matter?"

"Your desire for revenge is _seriously_--"

"_All_ I want is to give my brother the sort of proper burial he deserves! It's _not_ a lot to ask."

"You're too close to this, Gwynlyn. I'll end up having to bury _you_." He shook his head, tears in his eyes. "Look, with the circumstances… it does not have to be you. Daggon _can_ request SST intervention on something of this magnitude…"

"This is mine, Kettai. You can't take it from me, baby. You _can't_. Please…"

He closed his eyes. "Just… don't get yourself killed, Taushi."

"Wasn't planning on it," she assured him gently. "My desire for retribution aside, I _am_ interested in what's best for this child."

"As am I. I'll give you whatever help I can. Officially _and_ unofficially."

She gave him a hug and quick kiss before picking up her coat and turning to leave. "You're the best, baby. This might actually turn out well after all."

"It might. But it won't bring James back," he pointed out apologetically.

"I know," she whispered, biting her lower lip against the tears that threatened. "Call me, my love."

"I will. Stay safe."

  
"You, too." Gwen left the apartment quickly, locking herself in her car and sobbing.


	4. Chapter 4

****

Chapter 4 -- Difficult Decision

Táhirih was waiting in the living room when Cole and Mel joined her. "Well?" she asked Cole without preamble. 

"The child is strong. The mother…" Cole hesitated, his expression grim.

"She's dying," Táhirih said, nodding. "I thought so."

Cole sighed. "She _will_ survive until the birth. She won't allow herself to die before she's named that child."

"Beyond that?" Táhirih asked. "Can she reasonably be expected to survive much beyond that?"

Cole hesitated for a moment. "She has a chance once the body is her own again. The child is a severe drain on her reserves, but once that drain is removed…" 

"Is such a drain normal?" Táhirih asked. "I've never dealt with a pregnant Nodulian before."

Cole nodded. "It is normal, yes. Nodulians begin storing extra fuel almost a year before they conceive. Humans don't bother, so Jenin's body was ill-prepared."

Táhirih nodded slowly and handed him the bottle of zinc solution. "I'll be back tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have the equipment in hand to do a more thorough examination. Not that it's really needed given your input but…" She hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "The Taskforce will be… curious as to the… disposition of the mother, Kedriss Daggon."

Cole went pale and stared at her. "I can _not_ Collect a mother and leave her child helpless and without a family." He shook his head firmly.

"You may not have a choice. Gwen, Kettai, and I have talked. The Taskforce is _very_ concerned about your leniency with certain of the fugitives."

Cole was swaying on his feet, shaking his head and moving his mouth soundlessly. Mel hurried to his side and helped him into an armchair. 

"You can't make Cole do that," she told Táhirih, shaking her head. 

"_I_ can't make him do or not do anything. But others _can_. You should be aware."

Cole shook his head, jumping to his feet again. "It is _not_ an acceptable option!" he snapped, shaking his head. "I can _not_ do that to her after everything she's lost! I won't be the one to take another daughter from her!" He sunk into the chair again, tears in his eyes. "It would be _wrong_," he whispered, looking up at Táhirih desperately for a moment before dropping his head and staring dejectedly at the floor.

"I know," she replied in a quiet voice. She reached into her bag and pulled out a few more bottles, all bearing labels in some alien script. "You know what these are and how to administer them. I leave the fugitive to your care for now and… I'll talk to Kettai and Gwynlyn about…" She hesitated. "Doing the right thing."

Cole's head shot up. "Thank you, Táhirih," he whispered, nodding.

"You have friends in the Council, Kedriss Daggon. You should know that."

"A couple of weeks ago, Kettai told him that he had _enemies_ on the Council," Mel pointed out.

"And he does," Táhirih agreed, nodding. "But they say in the Taskforce that no one makes enemies by a stand without also earning himself allies." She looked down as her pager went off. "I really must go. Good afternoon to you both." Nodding politely to each, she turned and left.

Mel watched Cole anxiously as he sat in silence, examining the bottles Táhirih had left. 

"Cole, why don't you tell me some more about Jenin. You seem awfully friendly towards her considering that she's a convicted killer." She winced, aware that this sounded incredibly judgmental. She had not _meant_ for it to.

Cole looked up at her, shrugging. "Jenin and I were never exactly friends in the traditional sense, Mel, but we… understood each other very well."

"You… understood each other?" Mel repeated uncertainly.

Cole nodded. "Perhaps if I tell you about her crime, you will understand, Mel. I once seriously considered committing a similar one." Ignoring Mel's stunned look, he explained, "Jenin was a scientist, a geneticist. A few years after her marriage, her husband died in a laboratory accident. His death left her wanting to die. She only had one thing left to live for. There was a child of the marriage, Mel, a little girl."

Mel's eyes widened. She suddenly had a very good idea where this story was going.

"Her daughter, Sella, was murdered shortly after her husband's death." Cole swallowed and took a deep breath. His chest and throat felt tight. "The killer was caught quickly. While he was awaiting transfer to Sar-Top, Jenin broke into his holding cell and… she killed him."

"My God," Mel whispered, staring at him. "Are you okay? This can't be easy for you."

"It isn't, Mel. So much about it reminds me of Ashi and Nallia. Of _Rhee._"

Shaking her head, she closed the distance between them and gathered him into her arms. "You poor baby," she sighed, shaking her head.

Cole returned the hug gratefully. He had to be strong in front of Jenin, for her sake and her child's sake, but with Mel it was different. With Mel, he could be Cole instead of Daggon. Not some stoic Tracker who remained completely unmoved by events around him, but a _man_ with a past that was sometimes painful beyond words. He could _feel_ and express those feelings, and she would not mistake it for weakness or think that it made him any less capable of doing his job. Mel understood.

"There is more, Mel," Cole said quietly after several minutes spent in silence, drawing solace from her presence and her touch.

Mel looked up at him and gently brushed his hair out of his face. "What is it, Cole?"

He sighed deeply. "Kres is the father, Mel."

"Oh, God," she whispered, looking up at him. "Are you okay, Cole?"

"I honestly don't know, Mel. Táhirih was correct to ask what I will do with Jenin after the child's birth. I… I have a duty to Collect her, but… _morally_ I don't think… I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it. I chose between never allowing her to see her husband again and never allowing her to see her child again." He shook his head, slipping his arms around her again, needing the comfort and warmth that her touch could provide. 

Mel closed her arms around him again and gently rubbed his back with one hand, blinking against the tears that she felt threatening. This once, she knew, she needed to be the strong one.

"Cole, I want you to understand that… no matter what you decide, I _am_ here for you."

Cole lifted his head from where he had buried it in her shoulder and regarded her with hope and love in his eyes. "Thank you, Mel," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

Mel smiled and gently stroked his throat with one hand, keeping the other on his back. "Whatever you decide, Cole, I _will_ support you and stand by that decision."

"Thank you, Mel." Cole smiled at her and shifted slightly, brushing his lips against hers. "Your help and understanding mean a great deal to me," he whispered, his lips brushing hers with every word. "I don't know what I would have done without you this past year."

Mel closed her eyes and leaned back marginally, hating herself for it. "Don't," she whispered, shaking her head.

"You don't like it?" he asked sadly.

"I do, Cole. That's the problem. You don't want to be distracted, remember?"

"But, Mel," he began to protest.

She shook her head firmly. "I'm sorry, Cole. You're _very_ emotionally vulnerable right now. It would be like taking advantage of you."

He nodded slowly, regretfully. "Okay, Mel. But can we hug some more?"

"Of _course_ we can, Cole." Mel nodded and tenderly pulled him into her arms again. "You want to talk about this?" she offered quietly.

Cole shook his head, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I don't even want to _think_ about it, Mel," he told her in a low voice.

"Well, that probably _is_ something you're going to have to do before long, Cole," Mel pointed out quietly.

"I know. Doesn't make it any easier, though, Mel."

"I know it doesn't, Cole." She sighed deeply. "We'll get through this. I'm here for you."

He nodded, looking up as someone rapped on the apartment door. Knowing Mel's stance on public displays of affection, he reluctantly pulled away. As she rose to answer the door, he gathered the bottles into his hands and carried them into the kitchen. He looked up as Mel ushered Vic into the living room, both looking worried.

"… don't know what they could have been talking about, Vic," Mel was saying, shaking her head. "Here, have a seat. Cole, could you make Vic a cup of tea?"

"Okay, Mel." Cole nodded easily, placing the bottles into the drawer near the refrigerator where Mel kept her own medications. "I'll make a pot. I think everyone could use some."

Mel gave him an anxious smile as he put the kettle on a burner. "Thanks."

Vic regarded the interaction wordlessly. "So you have no clue why a pair of paralegals might have thought Cole assaulted someone?" he asked Mel, never taking his eyes off of Cole. "Or why he was subsequently assaulted by an unnamed barmaid whom I can only assume to be Gwen Angelo?"

Cole turned and tilted his head curiously at Vic. "Why would Gwen assault me, Vic?" he asked innocently. "We're good friends."

Mel was glad that Vic's attention was focused on Cole, because she could not entirely avoid giving the Cirronian an incredulous look at those words. It was as close as she have ever seen him come to lying.

"To keep you from assaulting this other young woman, perhaps?" Vic suggested, frowning at him.

"There was no assault!" Mel snapped, her tone perhaps a bit too defensive. She sighed and lowered her voice. "Look, Vic, did someone file a complaint?"

He shook his head slowly. "The couple having lunch here just filed a report. So far, the young woman in question has not stepped forward to file a complaint."

"Perhaps that is because 'the young woman in question' was not, in fact, assaulted," a low voice suggested from the hall.

The Nodulian was standing in the hall, unsteady on her feet, regarding the new arrival warily. Mel revised her initial guess at Jenin's age from 'not quite twenty' to closer to eighteen. If that old. She looked so _young_… and very, very sick. 

"Jenin." Cole quickly moved from the kitchen and to the Nodulian's side, brushing past the humans in the living room as if they were not there. He slipped one arm behind her back and gently grasped her arm with his free hand, steering her to the couch. "You should be in bed," he pointed out as he helped her sit. "You require rest. _Both_ of you."

"I heard voices. I wanted to see--"

"Hush," he urged gently. "This is Detective Vic Bruno. He is a very good friend of Mel's." He brushed her hair out of her face. "You don't have to worry."

Vic watched with wide eyes. "This would be…"

"The young woman in question." Jenin looked up at him with wide eyes. "Your witnesses are mistaken as to what they think they saw. Cole would never harm me."

Vic regarded her curiously, his observant eyes taking in every detail, from her slightly bulging stomach and painfully thin features to her tailored maternity clothes and designer shoes. She had money in spite of her malnourished appearance. Ill, perhaps, or suffering an eating disorder. The detail that really struck him, though, was the caged look in her eyes, and the _fear_. Fear that lessened substantially when Cole wrapped an arm around her shoulder and whispered unintelligibly in her ear. She gave him a trusting look and a little nod, leaning into him before returning her attention to Vic.

"Vic, this is--" Cole began.

"Alice Marquette," Jenin provided when he seemed about to falter. "We're cousins," she explained quietly. "Cole is… helping me." She rested a protective hand on her stomach.

"Then what those people saw?"

"A rather too enthusiastic greeting and an excitable young woman's startled over-reaction," Jenin said with a faint smile. She looked up as the kettle whistled. "I'll get it," she offered.

"You _stay_," Cole ordered firmly, rising. "You must rest. I'll get it."

Jenin nodded submissively and bowed her head, staring at the hands folded over her stomach and willing the human man to stop _staring_ at her. She knew exactly what he was thinking, too. It was what humans _always_ thought when they saw her. How does a seventeen year old girl from an obviously nice family get herself into that kind of trouble? It might even have been amusing to her if there had not been so much on her mind.

Vic walked over to the couch, crouching in front of her. "Alice, maybe you should come down to the station anyway?" he suggested gently. "Give a statement. Or I can take one here, bring it by for your signature?" He hesitated, wondering how to phrase his next words. Cole seemed to have a habit of picking up young strays of the female variety, and Vic could not recall _ever_ having seen him with a grown woman who did not work at or frequent the Watchfire. Not that Mel would have put up with any illegal goings on along those lines, but Mel also possessed an enormous blind spot with regards to Cole. "Do your parents know you're here?" 

Her head shot up and she fixed him with an icy stare. "My parents are dead, Detective Vic Bruno."

Vic winced. "I'm sorry, sweetie…"

"Don't call me that," she said bitterly. "The _only_ man with a right to call me that no longer walks among us."

"Jenin," Cole whispered gently, squeezing her shoulder from behind. When she looked up, he shook his head gently. "Why don't you take your tea in the bedroom? I'll sit up with you until you can fall asleep."

She nodded and rose, stalking from the living room with Cole close on her heels, his expression worried.

Mel glanced at Vic, who looked absolutely mortified by the turn the conversation had taken. She shook her head. "Come on, Vic. I'll get you that tea. It's cold out, it'll help you warm up."

He shook his head. "I should just go. I'm sorry to intrude."

"Vic, don't be like that," Mel sighed. Knowing that Vic's cop-senses were no doubt all over this situation, she felt it necessary to maintain a façade of normalcy. Besides which, he _was_ her friend, and obviously uncomfortable. "We can drink it downstairs," she offered.

Vic sighed and nodded, following Mel down the stairs.

"I'm sorry about that. She's been really on edge lately," Mel told him, pouring two glasses of scotch. Vic was not much of a tea drinker anyway.

"I noticed." Vic smiled wryly.

"She's due in a few days and _really_ worried about the baby. She's been sick."  


"I noticed that, too." Vic frowned. "Maybe she should be in a hospital?" he suggested gently.

Mel smiled and nodded. His concern for those around him was one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place. It was part of the reason she still cared for him so much. "That's being taken care of as we speak. Cole's got probably the most qualified doctor in the city for cases like hers looking after her."

Vic nodded. "Good to hear." They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea. "So, Mel…" he began.

"Please don't," Mel whispered, knowing that tone of voice. He was about to ask her out again.

Vic's expression was pained, but he nodded. "Okay, Mel. I'll get back to you."

"You just don't give up, do you?" she asked sadly.

Vic shrugged helplessly. "Depends on what I'm after. In the cases of suspects or women who are out of this world, _no_. Never give up, never surrender."

"_Right…_" Mel smiled and shook her head. 

***

"Kres really called you that? Sweetie?" Cole asked, perched on the edge of Mel's bed as Jenin sipped her tea.

She nodded, staring reflectively into her mug. "Strange, isn't it? We never used endearments on Sar-Top, but here he just picked up this little human word." She shook her head, looking up at him. "He didn't know, sir. I never got a chance to tell him."

Cole frowned faintly. "Jenin, don't call me sir. Call me Cole like you were earlier. It's my name."  


"Daggon is your name, sir."

"Cole is just fine," he told her, ignoring the comment. "If you don't stop calling me sir, I am going to have to stop using your familiar name and start addressing you by your full name and title."

She blinked and grinned slyly. "Take you awhile to get it all out, sir," she teased.

"Yes, it will, Jenin Nalita Alana Mea A'a Norn'alat Sella'tra Kres'alah Ni'tra." He smiled sweetly at her, his expression amused. "I mean it, Jenin. Call me Cole, or Daggon if you must, just _not_ sir."

She chuckled and nodded. "Okay, okay. _Cole._ Gods, just don't come out with all _that_ again."

Cole smiled and nodded gently. "Perhaps you should sleep now?" he suggested.

"I doubt I'll be able to."

"Then I'll put you to sleep," he offered.

She nodded, then stopped. "I never got to tell him," she repeated sadly. "I never got to say goodbye."

Cole rose and extended his hand. "Come."  


She nodded and slipped her hand into his, rising and following him into his war-room. She looked around with wide eyes. She had automatically assumed that the equipment with which he did his job was Tracker Corps general issue. It had _never_ occurred to her that he might be forced to cobble it all together from bits and pieces of primitive Terran technology. Amazing. Her respect for him grew.

"This computer monitors the strength of the fugitive life-forces." He entered a few commands into the keyboard. "This one is Kres' read-out. Strong and healthy, Jenin. He'll remain suspended that way until his return to Sar-Top."

Jenin stared at the computer monitor, reaching out and touching the wave-form on the screen. "That's really him?"

Cole nodded. "That's him. His life-force, his consciousness. Every one is a little different, unique to the individual."

"My love," she whispered, tears in her eyes. She touched her fingers to her lips and then to the screen, shaking. "Goodbye. Until the currents bring us together again."

Cole wordlessly closed his arms around her as she turned from the screen, tears in her eyes. There were tears in his own eyes as he tucked her into bed and eased her into sleep with a gentle burst of energy.


	5. Chapter 5

****

Chapter 5 -- Concern

"Man, what is she playing at locking up _today_?" Nestov sighed, slipping a strand of wire into the lock for the Watchfire's back room.

"Well, traditionally when Miss Porter locks the door it indicates a desire to be left the hell alone," a low voice murmured in his ear.

Nestov yelped and jumped to his feet, staring down at Gwen with wide eyes. "Yeah, well…"

"Did you need something, Mister Nestov?" she asked in a polite tone, absently toeing the lock-pick that had fallen at her feet. She was in a foul mood today and not about to take any foolishness from anyone. "A _key_ perhaps?"

"I _need_ to talk to Cole."  


Gwen did not have to consider her response to that for long. The timing of his arrival was _far_ too coincidental in her opinion. She did _not_ trust the fugitive informant and had not for some time. She was not about to let him in to see Cole while the too-trusting Cirronian was with Jenin.

"I'm sorry, but Mister Hauser is currently unavailable. Take a message?" she offered, smiling serenely at him. 

Nestov shifted uncomfortably. That Gwen chick was just _off_. And not nearly as sweet and gentle as she usually pretended to be. How she could smile like that while her eyes spoke murder was beyond him, so he smiled and starting backing away.

"I think not." Gwen's hand shot out and helped itself to a handful of his collar before the Dessarian could react. "Let's try again, shall we? Mister Hauser is not currently in. Can I take a message?" 

Nestov swallowed hard. Her smile was completely gone now. "It can wait," he managed.

She shook her head, tisking softly. "Dessarians… So damn twitchy."

Nestov's eyes widened. "You know…"

"All about you, _Nestov_." Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she brandished her Collector at him. "Now _start talking_, fugitive scum."

Nestov paled as he glimpsed the Collector. He had not known that there was another Tracker on the planet, but obviously there _was_, and one who was not nearly as forgiving as Cole. He closed his eyes and quickly complied with her order. 

"Some fugitive's gone renegade or… taken off or… _something_. Zin's got a price on her."

Gwen gawked. "You're shitting me?" she asked, startled by the second revelation.

Nestov shook his head quickly, mistaking surprise for anger. "No, man. I swear. Collectible only if she's returned to him alive and completely undamaged… He's threatening a painful death for anyone who so much as puts a scratch on her."

"This fugitive have a name?" Gwen asked in a low voice, not wanting Nestov to know that she knew a thing.

"J… Jenit or Jenin or something like that… Nodulian woman. I'm not sure what she was in for. I have this." He slowly reached into a front pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, extending it to her.

"Unfold it," she ordered, unwilling to relinquish her hold on him. When he had, she put her Collector away and took the paper from him and scrutinized the picture of Jenin _and_ the Vardian writing below it. "Half a mil. Nice…"

"You read Vardian?" Nestov whispered.

Gwen nodded absently, reading on. "I read _most_ languages. Vardian, Cirronian, Dessarian, Enixian, Gaelic, Cyrillic…" She looked up at him. "This is interesting. Mind if I keep it?"

Nestov hesitated. "Cole should really--"  


"Be made aware of this, yes." Gwen nodded. "However, he currently has other concerns than a single rogue fugitive," she told him, releasing her hold on his collar.

"What did this chick do to piss Zin off, anyway?" Nestov asked, straightening his shirt.

Gwen tilted her head at him. She had expected him to run immediately. "How in the eight hells would _I_ know? Now why don't you run home and shower? You _reek_ of fear, my friend." 

She made an absent shooing motion, fixing her eyes on the picture of Jenin again, showing him exactly how much his presence failed to intimidate her. Of course, every sense _but_ her sense of sight was trained on the Dessarian. She was not, after all, stupid. The Dessarian may have been a petty con-man and burglar, but that did not make him _incapable_ of cold-blooded murder, simply circumspect in his application of force. She waited until his footfalls faded completely before unlocking the door and letting herself in.

She paused in the back room, aware that Mel was in the bar, talking to… she paused, listening to the quiet voices for a moment. _Vic Bruno_. Wonderful. Rolling her eyes, she tucked the picture of Jenin into her coat.

"Oh, hello, Gwen," Mel greeted her as she walked into the bar.

"Hello, Miss Porter. Hello, Detective Bruno." Gwen smiled brightly at them and glanced at Mel's empty glass. "More scotch, Miss Porter?"

"Yes please, Gwen." Mel nodded as she stepped behind the bar. "Thanks."

Gwen refilled the glass and handed it back to Mel, her eyes pausing on Vic. "What? Why are you staring at me?" she asked, affecting uncertainty. She ran a hand through her hair as she mentally worked out who in the bar had gone to the police. The paralegals, probably. They had been a hard sell. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing at all, Gwen," Vic assured her with a forced smile, raising his glass to her.

"Oh, well, that's good." Gwen smiled blithely. "Miss Porter, is Mister Hauser still upstairs with Alice?"

Mel blinked at Gwen's casual use of the name of Jenin's host but nodded. "Yeah, Gwen, he is."

"Great. You mind if I pop up there and have a word with him?"

"By all means." Mel nodded. 

"Great. See you when I see you." Grinning, Gwen trotted up the stairs.

Vic stared after her, unsettled. He could not quite shake his disquiet around the seemingly unassuming girl. She could pull a 180 from sweet to intimidating in a heartbeat. He had seen her do it with unruly patrons in the past and he was relatively sure that she had done it to him once. And now he had two people who had insisted that she had been in a physical altercation with Cole and had actually managed to _subdue_ him in relatively short order. Which begged one question. _What the hell?_

Mel smiled curiously at Vic. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he assured her absently. "Just trying to figure out how _anyone_ could think that Gwen actually managed to cow Cole in a fight."

Mel laughed, shaking her head. "Interesting mental image, isn't it?" she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone. As amusing as the mental image was, seeing the real thing had been just scary.

"_Very_ interesting," Vic agreed. He rose, sighing. "Well, Mel, I'd better get back to the station. See you soon."

She smiled and nodded. "Okay, Vic. You take care." 

After Vic had left, Mel walked up the stairs and found Gwen sitting on the couch, staring at a piece of paper in her hands. Cole was nowhere in sight, probably still with Jenin in the bedroom.

"Nestov was here," Gwen told Mel. "I thought it might be best to keep him uninvolved as far as possible, so I sent him on his way." Shrugging, she handed Mel the picture of Jenin.

Mel stared at it for a moment. "What's this writing say?" she asked. "Can you read it?"

Gwen nodded. "It says that Zin is willing to pay half a million dollars to any fugitive who returns Jenin to him undamaged. It also says that he'll personally torture to death anyone who harms so much as a hair on her hide."

Mel stared at Gwen with wide eyes. "Zin _really_ wants this child."

She nodded impassively. "More even than that, though, he wants the mother's ability to _bear_ the child. I'm not sure if Mister Hauser has explained this to you, but fugitives should _not_ be able to conceive, let alone carry a child to term."

Mel frowned. "What about you? If they can't have children…"

"My mother was _not_ a fugitive inside a human host. Her life-force was intact and her DNA was pure. Taking a human host mutates certain genes, results in sterility. Well, _should_." Gwen shrugged. "Honestly, we're still trying to figure out how they can even _survive_ inside a human at all." Gwen gave another shrug. "All we know is that the human race is unique." 

Mel frowned, curious. "Unique how?"

"Some examples… A Nodulian or Vardian tries to take over, say, a Dessarian or Orsusian host, and he'll be dead within a few weeks, but fugitives have this nasty habit of _thriving_ in human hosts. Cirronians and Enixians can not successfully hybridize with _any_ Migar race, but there are historical precedents for both with the humans."

"So… what's that mean?" Mel asked, shaking her head.

"I don't have the first clue, and if Taskforce geneticists do they aren't sharing." Gwen glanced in the direction of Mel's room. "On a practical level, it means that the girl in your bedroom should _not_ be pregnant. If one or both of the parents had been in possession of an intact life-force, _maybe_… But not like this." She shook her head. "Zin has good cause to be interested in this woman, Miss Porter. He's _not_ the only one who is. But he _is_ the only one who wants to use what she can teach us to play Mengele."

Mel shivered. "That's…"

"Abhorrent." Gwen nodded. "You should understand that, however the Taskforce and the Security Council may feel about Jenin the fugitive, Jenin the _mother_ is to be protected from Zin at all costs. More than one of us would die before we'd let Zin get his hands on either of them."

Mel was grateful for the assertion, but concerned for Gwen, who was still little more than a child. "Gwen, honey, this isn't your fight."

"You're wrong, Miss Porter. I don't know Jenin from Eve, but I _do_ know Zin and I know what he's capable of. I will protect that little girl _and_ her mother. Hybrids have to stick together, after all," Gwen added with a faint smile, patting Mel's shoulder and rising. "You should show this to Mister Hauser but not, I think, to Jenin. I have a safe-house for you and we can move you in tonight. Still working on a hospital, though. Kettai will come pick you up in a few hours. Safe-house is fully stocked, so all you really need is clothes, meds, whatever along those lines."

"Gwen, where are you going?" Mel asked, rising and following her to the door.

"I have a lot still to do. Zin already knows that the Taskforce has been involved."

"How do you know that?" Mel asked, startled.

"One of our inside people reports that… an expert on the Taskforce has been called to Chicago." Gwen nodded to her. "Look, I'll see you tonight, okay? You stay safe and try not to worry too much."

"Right, Gwen." 

Mel nodded and watched her go before turning down the hall and opening her bedroom door. Cole was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding one of Jenin's hands and watching the sleeping woman with tears in his eyes. He looked up at Mel's entry and rose, joining her in the hall.

"How are you holding up?" Mel asked gently, closing the door.

"I… honestly don't know, Mel." He shrugged and walked into the war-room, pulling a sweater down from the shelf holding his clothes.

"You cold?" Mel asked, frowning. "It's not that bad in here. Are you getting sick?"

He shook his head, tugging on the sweater. "Sometimes I just get cold when I'm upset, Mel."

"If you're sure." Mel frowned and pressed her hand to his forehead. Of course, his skin was always hot and this was no exception.

Cole closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her cool fingers against his skin. "She never got to tell him, Mel," he murmured, sighing. "Kres never knew she had conceived."

Mel gathered him into her arms, holding him close. "Maybe… maybe it's for the best, Cole. Imagine how worried he would have been about them."

He nodded weakly. "I know, Mel."

"Let's go into the living room," she offered, sliding her hand into his. "We'll talk. Or just sit together if you don't want to talk."

"I don't want to talk, Mel, but I would like to have your company."

"Okay." She smiled up at him and followed him into the living room, keeping a gentle hold on his hand. "Here, sit. I'll be right back." When Cole sat down, Mel walked into the kitchen to reheat the tea. She retrieved a comforter while it was heating, draping it over Cole's shoulders. "That should help a little."

He smiled appreciatively up at her, pulling the blanket more tightly around his shoulders. "Thank you, Mel."

"Right back," she promised, returning to the kitchen to get the tea. She carried in two cups and handed one to Cole before sitting down next to him. "I… I know I've asked this before, Cole, but _are_ you going to be okay?"

He stared into his tea and nodded wordlessly. 

"I _am_ here for you. I want you to remember that, Cole."

He smiled faintly at her, placing his cup on the end table. "Thank you, Mel."

"Yeah." She nodded and set her own cup down, opening her arms to him. "Come here, Cole. You look like a man who could use a hug."

"Yes," he agreed, nodding and sliding his arms around her. "Thank you, Mel."

"Any time, Cole."

They sat like that in complete silence for the better part of an hour before Mel spoke again.

"Gwen was here."

"Gwen?" Cole looked up but kept hugging Mel. "What did she say?"

"She's working on finding a hospital where Jenin can deliver safely and the safe-house will be ready in a few hours." She sighed deeply. "And she talked to Nestov."

"Nestov?" Cole asked, frowning. "What did she talk to Nestov about?"

"This." Mel handed him the flier that Gwen had left. "I'm not sure how much Nestov and Gwen know about each other, but she got this from him."

Cole read it, his frown growing deeper. "This is not good, Mel."  


"I know." Mel nodded faintly. "And she says that he knows that the Taskforce is involved."

Cole shook his head. "There's no way he could know so quickly, Mel."

"Gwen says he's called in some expert he has on the way the Taskforce operates."

Cole shook his head again. "He's guessing, Mel, based on what he knows of me. I would guess that he's also making plans on how to proceed if the Taskforce is not involved."

"Just thinks of everything, doesn't he?" Mel sighed.

Cole nodded. "He may not be particularly respected Mel, but he is, by popular consensus, one of the greatest minds in the Migar Alliance."

"Good for him," she muttered sullenly. 

They lapsed into silence again for several minutes until Cole asked, "What should I do, Mel?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes, shaking her head. "Oh, Cole… I honestly have no idea. I… I'm just not sure that there's a right answer to this one."

He nodded. "By law, I should Collect her. But to do that is to leave the child helpless and alone. If I _don't_, though… she _is_ a criminal, Mel. And there is Kres to consider, and…"

"I know." Mel sighed and nodded, gently touching his throat as he had so often touched hers to provide comfort. "Hypothetically, Cole… what if there was someone to take care of and protect the baby? Would that make it easier for you to decide?"

He nodded readily. "Probably, Mel, but there is _not_."

"What about us?" she asked quietly.

He regarded her mutely, eyes wide.

"I can adopt her. You can tell me what kind of care a Nodulian baby needs. We can take care of her together until you have to go back and then decide if she would go with you or stay with me."

"Mel…" he whispered. "You would do that?"

"Of course I would, Cole." 

Mel nodded firmly. No one else seemed to have considered that Jenin might not survive the delivery itself. Mel, whose own mother had died in childbirth, _had_. It had not taken much thought after that to decide that, if anything happened to Jenin, Mel herself was probably better equipped than any human on the planet to raise her daughter.

"It would be a big responsibility, Mel," Cole pointed out gently, wondering if she had thought things through. "Raising a child is never easy for two people and, with my Tracking, I will not always be around to help."

"I know, Cole. I understand that. And I would go it completely alone if I had to. The fact that you would be there when you could makes it a _lot _easier on me, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't want to do this if you weren't."

"Not many women would make such an offer," Cole said quietly, smiling lovingly at her. "I believe that you would make an excellent mother, Mel. I'll discuss it with Jenin."

Mel nodded. "Talk about a blended family," she murmured. "You should probably pack now," she told Cole. "Gwen says that they're going to pick us up tonight."

"Us, Mel? Are you coming?" he asked.

"Of course I am." Mel nodded firmly. "I'm with you on this one, Cole, all the way."


	6. Chapter 6

****

Chapter 6 -- Safe House

"Two downstairs bedrooms and two upstairs," Kettai told them, unlocking the safe-house and ushering Cole, Mel, and Jenin inside. "Downstairs bath is just perfect for the needs of a Nodulian. Kitchen's fully stocked or you can order in if you prefer."

"Where's Gwen?" Mel asked, looking around the living room as Cole walked Jenin over to the couch.

He hesitated. "She'll come later this evening. Táhirih will be by again in the morning. We'll know more about the hospital situation by then."

"Will you stay for dinner?" Mel offered.

Kettai shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid I have a lot on my plate just now. Another time, perhaps. Now, there will be four Taskforce agents posted outside until Gweny arrives and two afterwards. Speed-dial number 10 for emergencies. Jenin, you'll be sleeping downstairs in that bedroom." He pointed. "Miss Porter, upstairs on the left. Gweny thinks this arrangement is safest for the two of you, since neither room has windows. Gweny will be on the couch where she can keep an ear on both Jenin and the door."

Kettai spent a few minutes exchanging pleasantries with the three of them before bidding them farewell and promising that Gwen would be by in a few hours.

Alone with Cole and Jenin, Mel remarked. "Guess I'd better see what's in the kitchen. Hungry, Jen?"

"Starving, Miss Porter," Jenin assured her.

"Mel," she reminded her, smiling and walking into the kitchen.

"Mel, if you don't mind, I think it might be best for Jenin to take a bath now," Cole contributed. "And I need to give her some of the medicines Táhirih left as well." 

Mel nodded. "That's fine, Cole. Dinner will be awhile, I'm sure, and I can grab a snack for her to have in the tub until it's done."

"Okay, Mel."

"Thank you, Mel." Jenin smiled at her and allowed Cole to lead her to the couch.

As Mel puttered around the kitchen, she watched Cole and Jenin going through the bottles of medicine, discussing each for several moments before it was laid aside in favor of the next. When they had gone through them all, Cole picked up two bottles and showed them to Jenin again. She nodded and leaned back on the couch, allowing him to drizzle a few drops from each into her eyes.

Mel felt a little pang of sorrow as she watched Cole caring for the Nodulian, knowing that he must have cared for his wife in much the same way during _her_ pregnancy. Conversations were punctuated by tender caresses and gentle touches, and everything in his manner indicated a desire to help and comfort. He missed his own family so much, she knew, and this was a nasty reminder of that fact. But instead of allowing himself to be pained by it, he threw himself into taking the best care of Jenin that he possibly could, putting his own pain on hold because that was just the kind of man he was. The grief would come later, she suspected, quiet as his grief always was, but no less intense simply because it was not particularly overt.

Cole looked up and saw Mel watching them, wearing that sad expression she always wore when he suffered. He gave her a faint smile by way of reassurance and picked up the bottle of zinc solution from the table, rising and offering his hand to Jenin.

"Mel, I'm going to run Jenin's bath now," he told her, smiling reassuringly at her. "I'll be back out as soon as I've helped her into the tub."

"Okay, Cole." Mel nodded and returned to deciding what to make for dinner as Cole led the Nodulian into the bathroom.

"I really only have three days?" Jenin asked as Cole filled the tub, frequently testing the water temperature. Kettai had been right. The deep, sunken tub was perfect for a Nodulian.

He looked up and nodded, emptying the bottle of zinc that Táhirih had left into the tub. "If that long. She's eager to join us, Jenin."

"She'd be less eager if she knew what kind of universe she were being born into," Jenin muttered bitterly. 

Cole sighed and nodded. "You worry about what will happen to her if I decide to Collect you?"

"It's one of the things that scares me, yeah."

"Jenin, Mel has offered to adopt her."

Jenin's enormous eyes grew bigger. "She would do that? Why?"

"Because she's Mel." Cole smiled faintly. "She's a good woman, Jenin. She'd make a fine mother."

"She's human?"

Cole nodded, frowning faintly. "Does that bother you?"

"Not _because_ she's human. I just… my daughter should be raised by a woman who knows how to take care of Nodulian children."

Cole smiled reassuringly, nodding. "I would be there to share that knowledge with Mel, Jenin."

Jenin peered out of the bathroom, watching Mel as she puttered around the kitchen. "She seems a good woman. No mother could ask better for her child."

"We would take good care of her, Jenin."

"We?" she asked, looking up at him. "Are you mates, then?"

Cole shook his head faintly, bowing it. "No, Jenin. We are… bound by a number of ties, but that is not one of them."

"It grieves you?"

He nodded faintly. "It does."

"What keeps you apart?" she asked gently, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. "Is species that great an obstacle?"

"Mel doesn't care that I'm not human, Jenin." Cole shook his head. "But… my job is frequently dangerous and I must stay on my guard. I failed to protect one woman I loved. I won't fail this one. She has been targeted by fugitives more than once because of her connection to me."

"I see." She bowed her head. "We are not all evil people, Cole. Not even most of us."

"I know. Let's get you into this bath now," he suggested gently.

Jenin nodded and pulled off her clothes, nodding gratefully to Cole as he helped her into the tub. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Jenin." He smiled down at her. "Will you be okay in here alone?" 

She smiled faintly. "It's not like I'm going to drown," she pointed out gently.

He smiled and nodded. "Call if you need anything at all."

"I will. Thanks."

He nodded and left the bathroom, half-closing the door.

''How is she?" Mel asked as he joined her in the kitchen.

"Worried, Mel. But otherwise fine."

"Cole, there is nothing 'fine' about that woman," Mel told him gently. "She's sick."

"I know." He nodded weakly. "But once the child is born she _will_ begin to recover."

"If she survives the birth," Mel amended softly. Watching Cole to gauge his reaction, she immediately regretted her words. His stricken expression made it clear that he had not considered the possibility. "Cole, I'm sorry, but…"

"I know, Mel." He nodded weakly. "Not all women do. But…"

"I know, Cole." She smiled gently up at him. "We'll cross that bridge when we reach it, okay?"

"Okay." He nodded and sighed deeply.

"You want to talk about it?" she offered again, searching through the cabinets. 

"No, Mel."

"Okay. I understand, Cole." She smiled over her shoulder at him, pulling down everything she would need to make dinner. "You want a cup of tea or something?"

"Yes, please." As she found tea-bags and a teacup, he spoke softly, watching her work. "Life used to be so easy, Mel. There were no shades of gray and every question had a right answer and a wrong answer."

"Sounds nice. Unfortunately, the real world is seldom that simple."

"So I'm beginning to notice," he sighed, leaning against the counter. "I never understood the concept of situational morality before. Now it seems like it's hard to find a situation that _isn't_ morally ambiguous."

Mel turned to face him, her expression sad. "Oh, Cole, I _wish_ I could make this easier for you. I do, but…"

Cole nodded faintly, approaching her and slipping his hands around her waist. "You _are_ making this easier, Mel, just by being here. It's been a long time since I've had anyone to lean on. It helps a great deal."

Mel smiled shyly up at him. "Just wish I could do more."

"It's enough," he assured her, smiling warmly.

Mel flushed and bowed her head. That smile had a habit of leaving her a melted puddle of hormones on the floor, not something that she wanted with others in the house. "You want to help with dinner?" she asked.

"Okay, Mel." Cole nodded easily. He liked cooking with Mel, loved the domestic _closeness_ of the act. "What should I do?"

***

"Thaler," Lana greeted him with a curt nod, not looking up from the report she was reading. She did not have a great amount of interest in him, or in _any_ of the fugitives, except as a means to an end. "Welcome back."

"Good to be back, Doctor Lana." He bowed politely simply because being polite was what you did in Lana's presence unless you wanted some of your bones broken. "What brings me?" he asked casually, pretending that he had not found her abrupt summons the least bit unsettling.

"_I_ bring you, Thaler," came her absent reply. "On Doctor Zin's orders. Sit," she ordered.

Thaler did as directed, his expression curious. "I see. And what does Zin require of me." Her head shot up and he quickly amended, "_Doctor_ Zin." Another rule for surviving an audience with Lana: as respectful as you were expected to be towards her, you had damned well _better_ be twice as respectful with regards to Zin.

"You will tell me what you know about your human host." She put the report she had been pursuing into a drawer on her desk. "_And_ that sister of his, hmm?"

"The full personal history of James Angelo is a matter of public record. You require his private history?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I do. Which should have been fairly obvious to you, Thaler. Proceed." 

He winced internally, but smiled and nodded. "James Ethan Angelo was eight when his father, a widower, married an Enixian female. No attempt was made to keep knowledge of her origin from him, nor was any made to shelter him from an awareness of the Taskforce. Both parents had close friends on the Taskforce, and non-humans came and went in the household as freely as humans. Sister is Gwynlyn Moiré Angelo, an Enixian half-breed, whom he raised as his own after the death of her parents. The love of his life was a Vardian anthropologist, now deceased, but he loved the half-breed more."

"Tell me about her," Lana ordered.

"Stubborn. One to hold a grudge. Changes her personality with the same ease that most humans use in changing their clothes. Sleeping with a Cirronian."

"More," Lana ordered. "She loves her brother?"

"She does. He was her chief confidant in all matters personal and professional. She called him her best friend and shared things with him that she has never shared with her Cirronian lover. His death crushed her and I have it on good authority that she would like to bury _me_ alive."

"Is that so?" Lana asked, raising an eyebrow. "Now tell me, if the Taskforce were involved in a case that also involved the Cirronian Tracker and therefore _Zin_, how likely would she be to be involved?"

"As a matter of policy, the Taskforce would do its utmost to keep her from taking an active roll in such a case. The half-breed, however, would go out of her way to involve herself, even resorting to trickery. Did I mention she knows how to hold a grudge? James Angelo is no more, because of Zin. She'd be out for blood."

"Mmm, I see, Thaler." Lana considered for a few more moments, then nodded to herself. "She would find a way to be in a supervisory capacity on this case?"

"Undeniably, yes, Doctor Lana."

"Prone to slip up when her emotions are high?"

Thaler nodded without hesitation. "She has a habit of acting rashly when she perceives the stakes to be particularly high."

"Useful information, Thaler." Lana nodded. "Did you know she works for the Tracker's human consort?"

Thaler blinked. "You're kidding?"

Lana shook her head gravely. "We're still unsure if this is by coincidence or design, but it's doubtful that she remains unaware of his identity."

He nodded, searching his host's memory for information on James Angelo's precious 'green-eyed monster'. It had been his favorite endearment for the girl and later the woman, whose eyes glowed green.

"She'd use the association to her advantage. She'd use the _Tracker_ to her advantage if it came to that. She is not a manipulative woman by nature, in spite of her profession, however she has an Enixian view of family. Blood ties are sacred and not to be discarded lightly. When we took a blood relative from her, we found ourselves on the receiving end of a vendetta. She will do what it takes to bring us down. Failing that, she will make our lives as miserable as possible for as long as possible. Directly, through her work with the Taskforce. Indirectly…"

"Aid to the Tracker?" Lana asked.

Thaler nodded. "Yes. Most likely the aid is subtle. Because she wants to keep her job, she would be reluctant to compromise her cover, which means providing aid without seeming to."

Lana nodded and hit her intercom. "Get me Doctor Mizzen," she ordered. "I want him in my office ASAP."

"I'll find him, Doctor," the secretary replied.

Lana nodded and deactivated the speaker. "Mizzen is a psychologist. You're to answer his questions about the half-breed. Afterwards, Zin will see you."

"Yes, ma'am." 

"You will wait here." Lana rose and swept from the office, stopping long enough to give instructions to Mizzen before crossing the hall to Zin's office and tapping on his door. "Sir?"

"Enter, Lana."

Lana pushed the door open, closing it firmly behind her as soon as she was inside. "Thaler is here. He's working with Mizzen to construct a profile of the half-breed. He'll be with you as soon as that's done."

"Well done, Lana." Zin nodded his approval and gestured for her to sit. "If I didn't know how singularly modest you were, I'd applaud your work."

Lana bowed her head sharply. "All is in your service."

"You _were_ a find," Zin chuckled, nodding his approval. "Sit, child. Drink?"

"Please." She nodded and sat down on an armchair rather than on one of the chairs near his desk.

Zin walked to her with two drinks. Handing one to her, he took a sip of his own, sitting on the arm of her chair. "And how is Thaler this fine evening?"

"Annoying and disrespectful. As always." Lana shrugged and sipped her drink. "His usefulness to the Cause nears an end, Zin."

"Are you asking my permission to kill him when we have what information we need?"

Lana considered for a second before shaking her head. "No, but his presence might provoke the half-breed into slipping up."

Zin nodded thoughtfully. "You are thoroughly convinced that she will be in charge of the efforts to protect Jenin?"

"I am. My discussion with Thaler bears this out. She will insinuate herself into the case, invited or not, and she _will_ take over. Thaler indicates a vindictive nature. He also believes that she will use the Tracker to her advantage."

"So whether she went to the Tracker _or_ the Taskforce…"

"We can reasonably assume the Taskforce to be involved." Lana nodded. "How shall I proceed?" 

"Talk to our people in area hospitals. Look for teenage females ready to give birth, private rooms for expectant mothers, that sort of thing."

"Done. And I'll circulate a physical description as well. How are our people to proceed if she is found?"

Zin considered for a moment. Attempting to remove a ready-to-deliver woman from a hospital by force was going to raise eyebrows. No way it would be allowed, even before the Taskforce was factored in. Still, a discreet eye might be kept on her until the delivery, at which point she could be removed fairly easily and with a minimum of fuss. 

The child might raise more questions, of course. The physician who delivered it, unless he worked for the Taskforce, would have to be put out of the way before he could blab what he had seen. It was doable, even if it _would_ take a bit of discretion on their part. Jenin delivering anywhere _other_ than in a hospital was, fortunately, out of the question. The Tracker was an intelligent man who could be counted on to recognize that fact.

Zin smiled benignly up at Lana. "You will have the attending physician informed that the girl's… _father_ is _very_ concerned and would like to be kept up to date on her condition."

Lana smiled herself. "Are you, indeed, concerned about your little girl?"

"Quite distraught, I assure you. I did not _mean_ my threat to disown her, you see…"

Lana smiled faintly and rose. "If she's in a hospital now, Zin, we will know. If she's not, we'll know when she gets there," she promised as she left the office.

"Good. Keep me posted," Zin called after her. "And get our techs started on that neurodebilitator!" 


	7. Chapter 7

****

Chapter 7 -- Sleepless Night

"Jenin, you're still awake," Cole whispered, kneeling next to the bed.

She nodded, sighing. "I can't sleep. My back hurts."

He nodded and touched her forehead tenderly. "Roll over, Jenin. Onto your other side, facing away from me," he directed.

She did as ordered, sighing again. "Why are you doing this for me? Why are you both being so kind?"

Cole smiled faintly at the question, resting his chin on the edge of the bed. He tugged her pajama top up, exposing her back and gently began rubbing the sore muscles, releasing warmth and soothing energy. "Mel is being kind because this is how Mel is. When she sees people in trouble, she _must_ help them. It is how we met, why she took me in."

Jenin closed her eyes, experiencing relief from the constant, nagging pain in her back for the first time in weeks and grateful for it. "And you? Why are _you_ helping me, Cole?"

"Because it is the right thing to do, Jenin." He sighed deeply, his hands describing slow circles up and down the strained tissue, soothing and relaxing. "Because you and I are really no different. We have lost all the same things. No one should have to lose a child once. I can't let you lose one twice."

She bit her lower lip. "He never knew. I… He never _knew_…"

"I know." He sighed and moved onto the bed, carefully helping her into a sitting position. "Do you resent me for what I did, Jenin?"

"I don't know." She sighed and shrugged. "I should, maybe, but… it's your job. And… you saved his life. I _am_ grateful to you for that."

Cole sighed and nodded, his fingertips lightly tracing the lines of her gaunt face. "I did save him. Now I will save his wife and his little girl if I can." One hand dropped from her face, hovering near her stomach. "May I?"

She nodded. "I just wish I could have told him," she sighed.

He closed his eyes, resting one hand on her stomach as the other continued caressing her face. "You still may be able to." He looked up at her, his expression sad and apologetic. 

"You haven't decided yet? If you're going to Collect me or not…"

Wordlessly, he shook his head. "I just don't know, Jenin. I've tried to decide, I have…"

She sighed and nodded, covering the hand on her belly with one of her own. "I wish I could tell you what to do, but I _can't_. I honestly don't know which I want. See Kres again and never see my daughter or see my daughter but not Kres…"

"There's no right answer," Cole sighed.

"There's really not, and I'm sorry for forcing you to make a decision like this."

"Not your fault." He shook his head.

"I know, but… this is so unfair to you." She shook her head.

"Lay down again. I'll rub your back some more."

She nodded and did as directed. "Sir, you must promise me something," she sighed as he resumed his gentle attentions.

He nodded immediately. "If I can."

"Whether you Collect me or not… I want to hold her in my arms. I _need_ to see her, to know that she's okay, to _name_ her."

He nodded. Nodulians placed great emphasis on the naming ceremony. It cemented a child's place among her people. "Of course. I can't deny you that right."

"Will you be the one to help me welcome her?"

"Jenin, I'm honored." Cole's hands stilled. Outsiders were seldom asked to witness the birth of a Nodulian child, let alone to speak the welcoming words. Those words were as important as the naming ceremony.

"Your presence honors both of us. Do you know the chant?"

"Yes." Cole nodded. "Get some sleep, Jenin. The child comes soon and you should be rested for it."

"How soon?"

"Tomorrow. She'll be here by this time tomorrow."

"Guess we'll both have a long day, then. Thank you, Cole, for everything."

He smiled faintly at her. "Sleep well, Jenin." He bent and kissed the side of her head, just below her ear, then passed his hand in front of her face, putting her to sleep. He kissed her again before rising and covering her.

"You okay?" a gentle voice asked from the doorway.

"Mel." Cole smiled weakly at her, checking Jenin's life-force before joining her. "I thought you were already asleep."

She shook her head. "Jenin wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. _Gwen_, on the other hand, is out like a light. Something tells me that she'd be up in a heartbeat if anyone got near her, though," she added.

Gwen was indeed snoring on the sofa but, true to Mel's contention, she shot upright as they walked past, her expression wary until she saw that it was them.

"Go back to sleep, child," Cole advised gently. "Long day tomorrow."

"Right. Night, guys. Wake me if you need anything." With these words, Gwen dropped back onto the couch and was soon asleep again.

"That an Enixian thing?" Mel whispered as they ascended to the safe-house's second level.

Cole nodded. "They sleep very lightly, but can go to sleep on demand."

"Oh." Mel nodded. "You're very good with her, Cole."

  
He frowned. "Gwen?"

"Jenin."

Cole shrugged, stopping outside of her bedroom door. "She requires protection and nurturing, Mel. Protecting her is my job. Nurturing her… it's not difficult."

"Really?" Mel asked gently, staring up at him and shaking her head. "Because if it were me in your position, I'd be having a _very_ hard time."

"My position is difficult, Mel, but… caring for Jenin is instinctive."

"Makes you the first guy I've ever known to claim a nurturing instinct," Mel said softly, taking his hand and drawing him into the room. "How are you doing, Cole?" she asked gently, sitting on the edge of the bed and gesturing for him to join her.

"Not well," he sighed, sitting next to her. "She is weaker than she was earlier. I may have to Collect her life-force to save her life." He stared at his hands, shaking his head. "But… I think I would like to raise this child with you, Mel," he admitted.

Mel's breath caught in her throat with his words. "Yeah, but you… aren't staying," she whispered, not looking at him. "It might be better for her not to get to know you as a father and then you just… leave…"

"I know," Cole murmured, barely audible. 

It was not the first time in recent days that he well and truly hated his position as a Tracker, the requirement to bring the fugitives _back_… He did not want to, not when Mel would be staying on Earth, not when Mel's home had become his home. It was not the first time that he had felt that he had incentive to want to stay. If only he did not have such a reason for _not_ staying.

"You shouldn't have to raise her alone, though, Mel," he added, sighing. "I would be honored to be allowed to help you."

  
"Well, God knows I'll be able to use all the help I can get," Mel noted, smiling at him. "And a kid could do a lot worse than having you for an adoptive father. I know you'll be wonderful to her." Her smile faded slightly. "As long as you're here," she amended. 

"I don't _want_ to leave," he whispered, tears in his eyes. He shook his head firmly. "Not ever."

"Cole, Cirron is your _home_," Mel sighed. "Of course you want to leave Earth some day." She smiled at him, ignoring her own pain at the fact, wanting to comfort him. "I understand that. It'll be great while it lasts. That's all we can really hope for, isn't it?"

Great while it lasted? Cole stared down at her for a moment before dropping his head and brushing his lips over hers and slipping his arms around her, pulling her slender body against his. 

Mel returned the hug but shook her head, pressing her face into his shoulder. "Cole, don't do this. It would be stupid."

He sighed, his frustration obvious. "You talk about stupid things and about… taking advantage of me, Mel, but you can _not_ take advantage of a man who has invited your advances." He sighed and rose, shaking his head. "Good night, Mel," he muttered, reaching for the door.

"Cole!" she protested, catching his hand. "Come on, that's not fair!" 

He looked down at her hand over his, his expression conflicted. "_Life_ is not fair, Mel. That's what humans say, isn't it?" he whispered sadly. He reached up and brushed her hair out of her pretty face. "Someone always gets hurt. Sometimes there are no right decisions…"

Mel bit her lower lip, tears pooling in her eyes. "No. Guess there aren't…"

Cole closed his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. "I wish it were easier, Mel," he murmured.

"I know you do. So do I." She smiled weakly up at him. "Maybe one of these days." 

"I'd like that, Mel." He smiled down at her for a moment. "I should go now, Mel…" he sighed. "You must rest."

"You could stay," Mel suggested quickly. She flushed and shook her head, aware how the invitation must have sounded, even to the Cirronian. "I mean… nothing has to happen, but if you want… _company_…"

He smiled hesitantly. "I'd like that, Mel, to keep you company…"

"Good." She smiled and nodded, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "Good," she said again, resting her hand against his chest and lightly tracing random patterns over his heart with her fingertips. "Nothing has to happen," she repeated quietly, as much to assure herself as him.

"Okay, Mel." He nodded faintly, cradling her against him. "Let's get you to bed now," he suggested gently, steering her to the bed and pulling back the covers.

Mel let him tuck her in, looking up at him with wide eyes and wondering if more might not happen tonight than they had both planned.

***

Word had come just a few hours ago. The Security Taskforce was ready to force Daggon to Collect Jenin's life-force. Kettai had not yet had the heart to tell Gwen, but it had not prevented him from beginning to make provisions for a child that would essentially be an orphan. He sat in an almost-empty café, whispering his conversation with the one human that he felt he could trust in such a situation. What struck him more than anything was that he only knew that he _could_ trust her because she had gone out on a limb and come to him, behind the backs of their superiors.

"Eallahn and Novan Starke?" Táhirih murmured, looking up at the Cirronian.

"Nodulian marine biologists," Kettai told her. "They aren't genetically compatible. They've been considering adoption for years. Only the fact that the child would have to be human has prevented them." 

"Good people?"

"The best, Doctor Gibbons. Novan and I went to Academy together. She's a good woman; they love each other dearly."

"And they're willing to adopt Jenin's daughter?" she asked.

He nodded. "They are on their way from New Zealand even as we speak. Having a Nodulian child available is like a dream come true for them. It's the best of all worlds…"

"Gweny says that Mel Porter is ready to adopt the child."

"A human?" Kettai asked, shaking his head. "She's a good woman, Doctor, but she hasn't the first clue about Nodulian biology or psychology… _Everything_ she might learn would be from Kedriss Daggon, and he is _not_ going to be on this planet forever. She's simply not qualified."

"If I were to consult with her, take the child as a patient--"

"She invites her own heartbreak, considering rearing a child with him," Kettai interrupted, not seeming to hear her. "Tell me how they can _ever_ be happy…"

"Andross Kettai…" She sighed and shook her head. "You are not a happy man, are you?"

He shook his head faintly. "Gwynlyn is upset. James… Thaler is in town."

"Zin might well use him as bait."

"Gwen's not important to him…"

"No, but Jenin is."

Kettai closed his eyes. "I wonder if Gweny even loves life any more, Doctor." He looked up at her. "You call her friend…"

"James' death hit her hard. You know that."

"She will throw her life away to revenge herself on them!" He shook his head in frustration. "How do I stop her?"

Táhirih considered for a moment, knowing that the Cirronian needed _something_. "Convince her that the greater revenge would be to keep Jenin's child safe from harm. She's Enixian. Where she may not guard her own welfare, she _will_ guard that of an innocent child."

"You… you could have something there." He nodded faintly. "The Starkes will arrive by tomorrow afternoon. The plan is to meet them at the airport with the child and send them right back. By the time Zin realizes that she's missing, she'll be out of his reach. He'll never be able to find her."

Táhirih nodded slowly. "The Taskforce approves this plan?"

"The Taskforce… does not know," Kettai murmured. "My orders are to Collect mother _and_ child if the Tracker refuses." He shook his head. "But the girl has no future in Migar. Both of her parents are going to spend most of their lives in prison, she has no other living relatives…"

"You do realize that disobeying a direct order from the Security Taskforce--"

"Constitutes treason." He nodded faintly. "I am aware, Doctor Gibbons, yes."

"Okay, then." Táhirih nodded slowly. "My report will indicate that… all has been handled in accordance with the will of the Security Council."

"Thank you," he murmured, nodding.

"It's the right thing to do," she said, shrugging and toying with her empty coffee-cup. "After I talked to Daggon, I could not have done anything else. I've never seen a Cirronian near tears before."

"We cry," he told her quietly, picking up a blue paper packet of sugar and emptying it onto his tongue. "In _these_ bodies." He started folding the empty sugar-pack, shaking his head. "We do _many_ unCirronian things in these bodies…"

"Origami right up there, is it?" Táhirih asked, smiling faintly.

He shrugged and held up the tiny blue fish for her inspection. "It's harder with paper…"

"I see." She shook her head and picked up the paper animal, turning it over in her hands. 

"You've read over the lab results that Zin's people have on the child?" he asked, emptying another sugar-packet into his mouth and deftly began folding the paper. 

She nodded slowly, putting the fish down between them and ignoring the urge to crush it in her hand. "Yes. And, frankly, I'm worried."

"Will the mother survive?" he asked quietly.

  
"Daggon says so. But he _also_ claims that it will be by dint of sheer stubbornness."

"She wants to name the girl?"

"Or so I'm told." Táhirih nodded. 

A pink frog joined the fish on the table. 

"Do all Cirronians have this metabolic flaw?" Táhirih asked curiously. 

"Hypermetabolism?" He nodded and reached for yet another pack of sugar. "We do. It's more pronounced in these bodies. Tell me about the child."

"She's… Nodulian. I don't know why or _how_, but she is."

A white mouse joined the growing menagerie. "Can you keep a secret?"

"I don't think I'd be employed by who I am if I couldn't."

"True." He reached for another sugar-packet never taking his eyes off of the human. "What do you know about Migar's policies towards eugenics and hybridization?"

"The party line? Marry whoever you want and who gives a damn about species. Eugenics is frowned upon but not illegal. Genetic manipulation… _is_."

He nodded slowly, folding the paper in his hands without looking at it. "It tends to end badly. Only in one case has the deliberate introduction of foreign genes via scientific channels…" He looked around for a moment, lowering his voice and leaning closer. "It's not common knowledge, but modern man did _not_ evolve naturally."

Her mouth moved soundlessly for several moments before she managed, "Tell me more."

"Native life-forms, _heavily_ altered using gene therapy--"

She raised an eyebrow. "Native life-forms? What are we talking? Neanderthal?" 

"Australopithecus, actually," he corrected her, reaching for another pack of sugar and placing a monkey next to the other paper figures. "By the time the Neanderthal came along, the projects were essentially complete. Traits from all six Migar species, _plus_ the locals, had been fused into one workable package…"

"So any given human is going to have genes from all six Migar peoples?" she murmured.

"Human geneticists talk about things like 'junk' DNA. They have a _lot_ to learn."

The Cirronian held up an origami Nodulian for her inspection. 

"Is the picture growing clearer?" he inquired gently. 

Shaking his head, he caught all the figures in his hand and made a fist crushing them in his palm. When he unclenched his hand, his palm was coated in a fine layer of ash, the only remnant of the origami figurines.

"Strangely symbolic when you consider what Zin has planned for your people," he observed with a philosophical shrug.

"Why would your people do this?" she whispered, shaking her head. "You don't play God. It's _not_ who you are."

"No one species could be trusted with what we've trusted this species with. So we created you, an impartial third party."

"Impartial my ass, Andross Kettai. You people have been into all things human from the beginning. _All_ of you."

"Yes." He nodded. "Given what's at stake, we had no _choice_ but to guide you. Your evolution, your religion, your law-codes… and occasionally even the personal lives of specific individuals of your race. But it has _all_ been for a reason, Táhirih Gibbons."

He dusted off his hands and reached for another sugar-packet.

"It's how they can possess us? Why all six species can hybridize with us?" 

He nodded. "And how a little girl conceived to ostensibly human parents can become a pure-blooded Nodulian…"


	8. Chapter 8

****

Chapter 8 -- Anticipation

Mel mumbled contentedly and snuggled into the warm arms embracing her, closing her eyes more tightly against the morning light filtering through the window. Until consciousness began to intrude enough that she wondered about those arms. Opening her eyes cautiously, she found herself staring into the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen.

"Cole…" she murmured, smiling up at him as the last of the cobwebs cleared from her brain.

"Good morning, Mel," he greeted her quietly, making no move to release his tender hold on her. His hands lightly caressed her back and sides.

"Been up long?" she asked automatically, running her hands appreciatively over his bare chest.

"I don't sleep, Mel," he reminded her, smiling faintly at her lapse. "But I spent some time meditating after you went to sleep. I emerged from my deep cycle about an hour ago."

"Oh. And did that… go well?"

Cole smiled and nodded faintly. "It was very centering, Mel. I needed it very badly." He paused for a moment. "I needed many things badly, I think. Thank you for letting me join you, Mel."

She smiled up at him. "Welcome, Cole…"

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

"Good, I feel good," she yawned, grinning up at him.

"I'm glad. I should… check on Jenin soon," he began reluctantly.

"Mmm, not yet," she urged. "Gwen's with her. She'll come get you if anything happens." 

"Well, it _is_ still early," he admitted, smiling faintly. "I think I could stay like this for a little while longer."

"Good…"

"I like this, Mel. We should do it more often," he told her.

She chuckled and shook her head. "Cole, you--"

There was a loud banging on the bedroom door. "Guys!" Gwen called.

"Coming, Gwen," Cole answered, rising immediately and opening the door.

She looked around his bare chest to Mel in the bed for a moment, her expression not even slightly surprised to find Cole there or Mel still in bed, before returning her attention to Cole. "I think it's time," she announced.

"Okay." He nodded and shrugged on his pants before stepping around her and half-running down the stairs. "Jenin?" he asked gently, entering her bedroom.

The Nodulian was lying on the bed, curled up in a fetal position and panting raggedly. She looked up at Cole with glazed eyes. "There's something wrong," she whispered, hugging her stomach and rocking herself.

"No, there can't be," he whispered, shaking his head in denial and hurrying to her side.

"It never hurt this badly with Sella," she whimpered.

"Human bodies are different, though. I'm told that there is pain, even when things are going as they should…"

She nodded. "There _was_ pain with Sella. Lots. She was turned improperly. I almost lost her. But this… This is worse…"

"You _won't_ lose her," Cole promised her firmly, pushing up her nightshirt and running his hands over her stomach.

"Cole?" Mel asked from the door. "How can we help?"

He looked up. "Run a warm bath, Mel. Gwen, try to find Táhirih." The women gone, he looked down at the girl on the bed. "Be _calm_, Jenin," he urged, resting his hands on either side of her stomach and releasing soothing energy. "You're too tense."

"How am I meant to be anything else?" she demanded, pulling herself into a sitting position and facing him. "My husband isn't here and my little girl will be raised by strangers, constantly in danger from Zin's people…"

"We _won't_ let harm come to her. Not ever. I promise. Lie down."

She shook her head, biting her lower lip against the cry that threatened as another contraction started. As she tried to curl up again, Cole wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a standing position and holding her against his body, counting to himself. 

He was surprised when she actually wrapped her arms around him as she would have with Kres, not just accepting his aid but encouraging it. It was almost unheard of from a Nodulian woman. Most would have pushed him away before they would have taken help from an unrelated male. Even if the husband was absent, she would typically only accept help from her father or an older brother, and then only in the most extreme of circumstances. He stared down at her with wide eyes, aware that he was going to be playing the same role in the birth of Jenin's daughter as he had played in the birth of his own, filling in for the absent father in every respect. For a man who did not know the first thing about human childbirth, the thought was a frightening one. He tightening his grip on her, holding her upright and murmuring encouragement. 

"Okay, bath's ready," Mel announced, pausing at the room's threshold. "Cole? Is she okay?"

His nod was shaky. "Think so, Mel. She's very tense, right now. The bath will help."

"Gwen's still trying to locate Táhirih," Mel said, stepping back as Cole supported the girl from the room and into the bathroom. "Kettai is on his way," she added, helping Cole get her out of her nightgown. "We'll leave for the hospital when he arrives."

"Okay." Jenin nodded faintly as Cole lifted her into the bathtub. "Thank you, both."

"You're welcome, honey," Mel murmured. 

"Stay here, Jenin," Cole directed quietly, ushering Mel from the bathroom. "But call if you need me."

"Hey, what's going on?" Mel asked quietly as he half-closed the door.

"I don't know _anything_ about delivering human children, Mel," he murmured, shaking his head. Gwen's inability to find Táhirih was alarming to him and he could not help but suspect the worst. "Can you help me?"

"I don't know very much about it either," Mel apologized.

  
"How can you not… it's your own physiology, Mel!" he protested. 

"Well, I'm sorry, but it's never really come up before, Cole."

"I'm sorry, Mel. I'm sorry." Cole sighed and nodded weakly. "It's just… she's looking to me to take care of her, of both of them, and I know nothing. I was expecting Táhirih to be here by this stage. I'm scared, Mel."

Mel nodded and patted his chest gently. "I know you are, Cole. So am I. But Gwen _will_ find Táhirih soon. In the meantime we just need to keep Jenin comfortable. And calm. I think it's important for a human mother to be calm."

"She is _not_ calm, Mel, and I don't think we can ask that of her. She's in pain…"

"Well, yeah. That's a human thing, pain during childbirth."

"For Nodulians it indicates a serious problem. She says it hurts worse than her first daughter's birth, Mel, and Sella was turned improperly… She's scared."

"I'll bet." Mel nodded faintly, glancing quickly at the bathroom door, then in Gwen's direction as the girl paced the living room, cursing into her cell-phone. "What can I do to help?"

"Tell me everything you know," Cole told her.

"That won't take long. Um… 10 centimeters is fully dilated," she offered, thinking. "Uh, and…" She shook her head, annoyed to be so clueless. "I'm sorry, Cole."

"It's okay, Mel. The water won't harm them in that body, will it?"

"Don't think so." Mel considered, then shook her head. "No. Um, some women even give birth in the water, I think. Uh, yeah. Water-birth was popular in the sixties."

"This might be best for Jenin," he decided. "Most familiar." 

  
"What do you mean the baby may be too big?" Gwen shouted into the phone, redirecting their attention away from each other. "Why the _anatha_ wasn't Táhirih apprised of this?" She paused to listen, her expression equal parts worried and livid. "Well **_find_** her!" she shouted before breaking the connection.

"That sounded… bad," Mel noted.

"Yeah," Gwen agreed quietly, nodding. "When Kettai gets here, we move. She needs to be in a hospital or we'll lose them both."

Cole spoke quickly, his voice low and harsh. "If the child is too large to be delivered, we may lose them both anyway. Do humans practice… surgical extraction?" 

"C-sections, yeah." Mel nodded. "Yeah, we have them. They're supposed to be pretty safe if the doctor knows what he's doing."

"Táhirih has done _dozens_," Gwen assured them.

No one bothered to point out that Táhirihwas nowhere to be found.

***

Táhirih drew her hand across her eyes, yawning and crossing the hospital cafeteria to the bank of vending machines for another cup of coffee. She had spent half the night talking with Kettai and the other half arranging to have a room made ready for the delivery in a recently constructed and still empty wing of the hospital.

"Morning, Doctor Gibbons," a cheerful voice greeted her. "I thought this was your day off."

"Duty calls," she told the intern at the next machine with a smile, smacking her palm against the surface of the vending machine when it did not immediately give her her coffee. "I needed to fax some records to an associate and then I got suckered into a consult in a little while."

"Fun." He rolled his eyes and retrieved his bottle of soda. "Well, hope you get _some_ of your day off to yourself. See you tomorrow."

"Okay, Lucas. Bye." 

She smiled until he was gone, then immediately fled the cafeteria. It had been stupid going down there in the first place. She had to _avoid_ getting recognized or risk raising more questions about what she was doing at work on her day off. Even her office was probably not the best place to be at present. Shaking her head, she decided to go give Jenin's room one more going over. She reached for her cell-phone as she walked through the still-empty corridor, cursing softly when she realized that it was not in its normal place. She was reaching for her pager to see if Gwen or Kettai had tried to contact her as she stepped onto the elevator, not really paying attention to the other people inside until the door had already snapped shut.

"James," she whispered in a weak voice, looking past him to another familiar face. "Zin…"

"Doctor… Gibbons," he read off of her tag, smiling serenely as 'James' hit the button to stop the car. "So lovely to meet you in person. Thaler here has told me all about Gweny's friend the doctor…"

She swallowed hard. "Has he now?"

"Mmm hmm." Zin nodded faintly, his cheerful expression never slipping. "Used to be an obstetrician, I understand?"

"Osteologist," she lied quickly, hoping that the two sounded similar enough to a man for whom English was not a first language. Her mind was spinning as she tried to come up with a strategy to save the situation. "Bone doctor."

Zin pursed his lips and shook his head faintly. "Nice try, though…"

Táhirih backed away, nudging the alarm button behind her back. "Look, I'm not going to tell you a damned thing, so just--"

"Oh, we disabled the alarm button," Zin added casually. "Seemed a wise precaution. Wouldn't want our little tête-à-tête interrupted." He approached her, helping himself to a handful of her ponytail. "You tell me where the Nodulian whore is and you may actually walk out of this alive," he hissed.

"Bite me."

Zin shrugged and abruptly grabbed her hand, sinking his teeth into her wrist until they scraped against bone.

"Ah!" she howled, her knees buckling. 

"Learn respect," Thaler suggested cheerfully. 

She stared at the blood dripping down her arm with wide eyes for a moment, silently making her peace and coming to terms with the fact that she was probably not going to walk out of this one alive. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes and began praying.

  
Zin scowled and shoved her to the ground. "No fight at all in his one."

"She comes from a religion of pacifists, I _told_ you," Thaler said. "Thus the praying rather than trying to claw our eyes out as Gwen would do." He hit the button to take them to the parking garage, looking down at the woman cradling her wrist against her body and praying quietly. "Ironic that she's named after one of the martyrs of her faith."

Zin scoffed at the observation. "I have little patience for martyrs, Miss Gibbons," he informed her quietly, grabbing a handful of her hair and jerking her to her feet. "What I _do_ have is an Enixian who can make almost _anyone_ talk."

"Operative word being 'almost'," she whispered, shaking her head. "You think I'm going to sell out my friends or let you go on a damned God-trip--"

Zin backhanded her, trying to cut off the tirade before it became one. 

"You think you can render yourself into a god by your actions, but you are _wrong_. You are no god and you never will be," she informed him quietly. "There is no god but _the_ God…"

"Oh, _please_!" Thaler scoffed.

"You _will_ be struck down for your heresy and presumption," she told Zin, smiling bitterly. "The Taskforce or the Tracker may well be the hands to hold the blade, but their hands will be guided by His hand…" With these words, she closed her eyes again and resumed praying, not even faltering when Zin cuffed her again.

"Mmm, I think I'm going to enjoy having this one broken," Zin told Thaler, smiling as the elevator door opened into the parking garage. He wrapped a firm hand around her arm and shoved her out of the elevator. "Where is Lana?" he sighed, looking around.

Táhirih took advantage of his momentary distraction to stomp on his foot and head-butt him before breaking into a run. She ran straight into the arms of a young woman who smiled serenely up at her for a moment before applying a stun-gun to her stomach.

"Sorry I'm late, Zin," Lana apologized as Thaler helped the stunned Vardian to his feet. "Couldn't find my purse," she explained with a shrug, slinging the human over her shoulder. "Van's over here. Let's go."

***

"We have a problem," Kettai announced, sweeping into the living room. Mel and Cole were in the bathroom with Jenin.

Gwen nodded. "I know. I know… They tell me that the baby may be too large."

He gently caught her arm and ushered her into the kitchen. "We have _another_ problem," he whispered. "Táhirih."

Gwen frowned. "What about her?"

"No one can find her anywhere."

"So I've heard."

  
"There's more," he murmured. "She was seen at the hospital this morning by more than one person."

"And she's not there now?" 

He shook his head. "And this picture was taken by a security camera in the hospital's front lobby this morning." He reached into his coat and extracted a printout. "Zin and Thaler were there."

She let out an angry shout and crumpled the picture of the two in her hand. "Damn, _damn_, **_damn_**!" she shouted before slipping into Enixian.

"Would you be calm?" Kettai demanded, clamping his hand over her mouth and raising the other to her forehead.

"I would much rather not, thanks!" she hissed, jerking her head away from him.

  
"Gwen, if Thaler was there--"

"It was only to get my attention. I know." She nodded and stalked into the living room, riffling through her overnight bag. "I know." 

"Little early, isn't it?" he asked as she pulled out a flask.

"Little late, actually," she corrected him, taking a swig. "I'll get Jenin to the hospital. You find Táhirih. Preferably alive." 

"Okay, my love." He nodded and started for the door. "I'll see if we can find another qualified doctor."

"_Any_ doctor at this point," Gwen corrected him. "Daggon doesn't know much about how humans do these things these things. Be a damned disaster for the two of us to try and handle it." She sighed deeply. "But you find Táhirih, too, baby."

"I'll do my best," he promised. "Gwynlyn, about the child…"

"What?" Gwen looked up, frowning at his tone of voice.

"We've found a couple to adopt her. Novan Starke and her husband."

Gwen frowned and shook her head faintly. "I _told_ you that Miss Porter is going to adopt her."

"You honestly believe that the Council will let her raise this child in Chicago, under Zin's nose? And even if they _do_, do you honestly believe that it's right to even _ask_ her to rear a child with a man who will have to _leave_ some day?" he hissed.

"Jenin has already selected a family for her child. The Starkes were _not_ mentioned."

"She will be safer with the Starkes. She will be much loved. She will have _Nodulian_ parents."

"So? Since when is race a prerequisite for a loving parent, Kettai?" Gwen shook her head in disgust. "How _dare_ you go over my head like this!" she hissed, grabbing his arm.

"I was trying to _help_. Damn it, Gweny, _Zin_ lives in Chicago."

"This is _mine_. You have no right to interfere. Not you, not the Taskforce. I am in charge of this Op and will _remain_ that way. The child goes where Jenin _says_ she goes!"

"You are no longer adequately objective, Gwen." He let out a frustrated sigh. "Forget screwing Zin. Look to the welfare of the _child_." 

"You think I don't care about that little girl and you don't know me nearly as well as you think you do. Now go find Táhirih!" she ordered, pointing towards the door.

"Gwen, my team is on that. We need to talk about this."

"They don't get that child!" Gwen hissed. "Taskforce sympathizers should not be raising the daughter of a fugitive."

"Taskforce _sympathizers_?" Kettai repeated, raising an eyebrow. His cell-phone rang and he held up one hand, pulling it out. "Hang on, baby. Hello?" He paused, listening for a moment. "You're sure? Okay, I see. Get on it! No, no… prisoners for interrogation are _not_ our top priority. Just… yeah. _Go!_" He hung up his phone, sighing deeply and rubbing his forehead.

"What?" Gwen asked, frowning.

"The hospital… They found human blood in one of the elevators. It belongs to Doctor Gibbons."

"How much blood?" Gwen whispered, paling.

"Not much. Consistent with a minor injury only and no body yet. Baby… there's no reason to doubt that she's still alive and well. Zin would want her able to talk."

Gwen's nod was shaky. "Right, you're right. Go, bring her back to us."

He nodded and turned to leave, but paused. Turning again, he gently caressed her throat for a moment. "The Starkes will understand," he murmured, nodding sharply and quickly leaving. 

"Gwen, sweetie?" Mel asked gently, slowly approaching.

"Miss Porter." Gwen smiled weakly up at her. "Getting Táhirih on time may be a problem."

"She okay?"

"She'd damned well better be," Gwen muttered, brushing her hair out of her face and slipping on a headband. "Zin's paying for this one."

"Gwen?"

"I'm sick of him screwing with my friends and family," she muttered sullenly, rising and grabbing the car keys. 

"Family?" Mel repeated, staring at her.

"Forget it. We'll discuss it later, okay?" Gwen gave her a forced smile. "Why don't you tell Daggon to get Jenin ready, hmm?" she suggested.

Mel nodded and returned to the bathroom.

Gwen dropped on to the couch. "_Focus_, Angelo!" she whispered harshly, shaking her head. "All for a reason. He's toying with you, trying to draw you out…" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "James, big guy, little Gweny needs you now. What do I do?"

It was insane. The number of times that James and Kettai had butted heads over what was best for Gwen, the number of times that human ideals had conflicted with Cirronian ones… They had only ever agreed on one thing, that Gwen was a rash woman, prone to act on emotions rather than intellect when the stakes were particularly high. Zin had Thaler, which meant he had _James_, which meant that he _knew_ it, too. Zin knew exactly what she was going to do. And she was powerless to do anything else. 

She had to get Jenin to the hospital if mother and daughter were to survive.


	9. Chapter 9

****

Chapter 9 -- Labor Pains

"Miss Angelo," a man in faded jeans murmured as she crossed the hospital lobby.

Gwen nodded discretely and fell into step next to the young man. "Agent Tarsk," she greeted in a low voice, not looking at him. "What's the word?" 

"Zin's people have saturated every hospital in the city."

"How many have we taken?"

"None here. Three at Mercy. They're massing there since we took the three." 

"Good, good." Gwen nodded faintly but did not for one second believe that Zin was fooled by their seeming inactivity in this location. "You keep my perimeter clear, you keep your eyes open, and you send Kettai and Doctor Gibbons up the minute you see them." 

"As you say." He nodded and turned off, vanishing down a side hallway.

Twenty seconds later, another Agent, this one dressed in scrubs, fell in step beside her long enough to report, "You're a go. No sign of Doctor Gibbons or Agent Andross yet." 

"You have Kettai call me the moment he reports in, Agent Morin," she murmured as he moved off. 

He nodded faintly but did not otherwise acknowledge her words. 

  
Gwen wove her way through the hospital's maze of side and back hallways, allowing herself a moment's hope. Kettai had gotten some of the very best Agents _in_ the Taskforce to man the hospital, mostly men and women under his direct command. If anyone could manage to keep Zin away from them, it was this group. Now all they needed was for Táhirih to show up in one piece. 

She pulled out her cell-phone as it vibrated in her pocket. "Go," she directed.

"Are you there?"

"Almost. Are you going to have the security system down?"

"On your mark, ma'am."

Gwen nodded and moved to stand in front of the emergency exit. "Mark."

"Three, two, and now."

Gwen nodded and pushed the door open. "Hurry, come on," she ordered as Mel and Cole half-carried Jenin into the hospital. 

"You need that door closed in ten."

"Let's move, people!" Gwen jerked the door closed again as soon as all three were inside. "Okay, you can resume the connection."

"Understood. Luck of the gods."

"Thanks, we're going to need it. Angelo out." 

She slid the phone back into her pocket and looked Jenin over. She could smell the Nodulian's blood, even over the reek of her own fear and that of Mel's. She moved closer to Cole as she led them towards the elevator. At least a Cirronian's anxiety generated a pleasant smell, almost like chocolate. Considering the sedative effects that cocoa products had on the species, she considered it highly ironic that they started to _smell_ like it when they were anxious. 

Mel fidgeted as they rode the elevator up to the abandoned wing. Gwen was silent, grim, and completely still. It was like standing next to a completely different woman than the one who worked in the bar and always had a smile and a cheerful word for everyone. Her tension was obvious and it scared Mel. 

"Any word from Táhirih yet?" she murmured to Gwen. Cole was, of course, completely preoccupied with Jenin, whispering to her and gently touching her face and stomach.

Gwen shook her head faintly. "Kettai is on it." 

"Gwen," Mel began hesitantly. "Is something…"

"Zin has her," the girl confessed.

Cole's head shot up. "For _how long_?"

"Not long yet. Just a few hours. Kettai and his team are on it. They'll bring her back to us in one piece."

"They'd better," Cole grumbled. 

"I know," Gwen said, nodding. "She's like a sister to me. I know…"

Cole nodded and lightly touched the girl's forehead for a moment, looking up as the elevator door opened.

"We're clear," Gwen announced after taking a moment to look, listen, and smell. "Third door on the left," she added as they moved out of the elevator. "Táhirih had the room prepped last night."

"I need books," Cole told her, lifting Jenin onto the bed.

"Lap top computer with internet access." Gwen pointed. "Several good medical libraries bookmarked."

Mel moved to Jenin's side immediately, taking her hand and murmuring soothingly.

"You may have to do this by yourself," Gwen added in a low voice as Cole gave Jenin a pat and then hurried over to the computer.

"I know," he murmured, nodding and starting a web search. "Keep an eye on her."

Gwen nodded and squeezed his shoulder gently. "You'll do fine. I know you will, sir. You put your mind to something, you _can_ do it. You're like that."

He gave a faint nod. "Thank you, Gwen."

"We're going to keep this child _safe_. And you are going to help Miss Porter raise her if that means _I_ have to bring those fugitive life-forces back to Sar-Top myself," she whispered. 

Cole smiled up at her for a moment before returning his attention to the information pouring across the screen. "You have no idea how much that means to me, Gwen."

She shrugged. "Hey, you have a right to be happy. And I have a reason to help you achieve that."

  
"And what is that, Gwen?" he asked, looking curiously up at her.

"You're family." Shrugging, Gwen patted his shoulder and then moved to join Mel and Jenin.

***

"This is pointless, Zin," Lana yawned, rising and pouring herself a cup of coffee as Zin watched Táhirih's 'interrogation' through the two-way mirror. "The more he hurts her, the louder she prays. Even the drugs aren't helping… She's _not_ going to tell you what you want to know."

"Oh, I know." Zin nodded. "Figured that one out twenty minutes ago. I'm actually surprised it took _you_ so long to figure it out, my dear."

"Oh, I figured that out in the first five minutes. But Erak seemed to be enjoying himself." Lana nodded towards the Enixian with an indulgent smile. "Didn't want to ruin his fun."

Zin chuckled and shook his head. "How magnanimous of you, my dear." Shaking his head, he activated the intercom. "That's enough, Erak. You may go." As the Enixian gathered his things together and left the room, Zin turned to Lana. "Shall we go have a nice discussion with the good Doctor?"

"Well, I suppose that's _one_ option." She smiled faintly. "What do you want with her, Zin?"

"To break her, mostly. Any information we can gain on Taskforce operations on this planet will be a lovely bonus."

"Breaking her will take time," Lana observed, leaning casually against the wall. "And keeping her captive will prove problematic unless we fit her out with a neurodebilitator."

"How long will that take?" he asked, moving to stand in front of her.

Lana ignored the fact that his nose was less than three inches from hers. "We can have one ready for instillation by evening." When he pursed his lips, she shrugged and added, "Or the one we just finished for Jenin can be installed now."

Zin considered. "No. Jenin must be fitted out immediately once we recapture her. Have the human sedated until we have one for her." 

"As you command." Lana inclined her head. "You wish to speak to her first?"

"Mmm, just for a moment, I think." 

Lana nodded and slid around Zin, holding the door for him. "Oh, sir," she began as he reached for the door to the room where Táhirih was being held. "About Thaler…"

Zin looked up, his expression one of polite interest. "What about him, my dear?" 

"His usefulness may shortly be at an end as we have discussed."

Zin nodded shortly. "Yes, and I've already given you permission to--"

"We should keep him alive and in Chicago," Lana interrupted. 

He raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"We can use him as bait to catch the mongrel female." Noting Zin's bored expression, she smiled and added, "The mongrel female who happens to be sleeping with the man who is second in command of regional Taskforce operations." 

Zin smiled widely. "I like the way you think, my dear!" he laughed, gently patting her cheek.

"Mmm, here's something else to make you smile," she purred. "She _also_ seems to have a relationship of reciprocal affection with a certain Cirronian Tracker who's been a thorn in our side. He would almost certainly attempt a rescue of his own."

"Beautiful, Lana, my dear," Zin breathed, smiling warmly at her and lifting one hand. "You are an amazingly insightful creature, you know that?" he asked, caressing her face for a moment before letting his hands move lower.

Lana closed her eyes and let out a low growl of pleasure as his fingers tightened around her throat. 

Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, still tightening his grip on her throat. "I don't know what I would have done in these past years without you by my side, Lana."

"Had fewer fights with your wife, perhaps?" she chuckled, pulling him against her before lifting both of her hands.

"Leave her out of it," Zin suggested, closing his eyes as she began squeezing his throat. 

"If you insist." Shrugging, she tightened her grip on his throat painfully, smiling when he moaned in response and closed his fingers around her throat tightly enough to leave bruises. Abruptly she let out a Vardian curse and dropped her hands, jerking out of his grasp. "We have work to do," she murmured, shaking her head. 

Zin snarled and slammed his fist into the wall next to her head, leaving a sizeable dent. "Is work all you ever think about?" he asked her in a gentle voice, absently tracing the bruises forming on her pretty neck. 

She sighed gently and shook her head. "No, Zin. _You_ are all I ever think about. We're on a time-table and we can _not_ afford to tarry." 

"No, I suppose not," he agreed with a shrug. "Later, perhaps."

"Perhaps," she agreed mildly. "Shall we, then?" she asked, gesturing towards the cell door. 

"Mmm." Zin caught the door. "After you, my dear."

"Back for more?" Táhirih managed weakly as she heard the door open, not bothering to open her eyes. 

She was strapped to a surgical table, wore only a bra and ladies boxers, and her body was spotted with cuts and burns. Blood seeped from more than one of the cuts, trailing down her chest and stomach in small rivers, pooling in her belly button or staining her white cotton waistband. The pain and blood-loss she could handle, even the indignity of being stripped almost naked before complete strangers, but the worry over Gwen and Jenin was starting to wear on her nerves. 

"Why don't you cry?" Zin asked, curious. Erak had most of his victims begging for death within five minutes. Táhirih had neither cried nor even asked him to _stop, _let alone implored him for the release of death.

Táhirih's eyes popped open as she recognized his voice. "A woman has to have _some_ dignity," she informed him, managing to infuse her voice with a lot more pride and certainty than she felt at the moment. 

"True. Sometimes it's all we have," Zin agreed quietly, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.

Táhirih shivered under the touch but made no move to pull away. She could not have gone far anyway. "That and faith," she managed, her voice weak and shaky.

Zin rolled his eyes at the amendment. Faith was a dangerous thing in an enemy. It would never do to let her retain any.

"Jenin died in childbirth twenty minutes ago," he informed her quietly. "The child, too."

"You lie!" she spat.

"I wish I did," Zin told her, shrugging. "I had much to gain from their survival. The child was too large to be delivered naturally. Jenin died in Daggon's arms. He wept." Patting her shoulder, he turned and started to leave. "Lana, get Reta in here to heal these injuries and then have her transported to a holding facility."

"As you command," Lana agreed, following him from the room.

"That was inspired," Lana told Zin with a smile as they watched Táhirih struggling against her tears through the two-way glass. "Absolutely _inspired_…"

He smiled back, nodding faintly. "These humans have much to teach us, Lana."

"Do they, now?" she asked politely.

"They have a saying that a lie is most convincingly hidden between two truths."

She smiled. "How insightful of them."

"It's a shame that the Taskforce is involved," Zin murmured. "If it had _just_ been Daggon, he might actually have come to me once it became obvious that Jenin could not give birth normally." 

"Which the Taskforce never would. We have to find her before she gives birth or we could lose both."

***

"Damn, here comes another one," Jenin muttered, pausing in her walking.

"Okay, it's okay," Cole assured her, sliding his arms around her. "Just breathe like I showed you." 

"Cirronian pain-management. It's… _ah!_"

"Breathe!" Cold ordered, supporting her against his body.

"Should she be standing up?" Mel whispered to Gwen.

"I don't know. I guess it's helping hurry things along or something." Gwen shrugged. 

"Why isn't she making any noise?" Mel whispered to Gwen.

"Nodulians were heavily predated for millions of years. Childbirth being when a Nodulian is most vulnerable, they evolved to do it in absolute silence until the chanting starts. They start making noise before that and you _know_ they're in trouble. Odds are good that at least one isn't going to survive if--" Her explanation was cut off by a sharp cry from Jenin.

"Come on," Cole urged gently, slipping his hands under her arms and dropping into a crouch, pulling her with him. "Just lean on me and push."

"Okay, I'll… _ah!_" she protested, her entire body shaking. Giving up even the pretense of pushing, she just hung on to Cole and whimpered.

"Oh, God," Mel whispered, covering her mouth with one hand.

Cole whispered in her ear, pulling her upright and holding her against his body, rubbing her back in soothing circles. As soon as the contraction had passed, he lifted her onto the bed, settling her quickly and then circling around to check her progress. Shaking his head, he covered her legs with a blanket and joined Mel and Gwen.

"Rest for a few minutes, Jenin," Cole directed over his shoulder. "I'm going to have to remove this child surgically," he announced in a whisper to Mel and Gwen. "I should be able to see the baby by now. Jenin's getting too weak. She can't even push any more."

"What, you're going to operate on her without anesthetic?" Mel whispered, horrified.

"Unless Táhirih left something, I may have to. Gwen, what did she leave?"

"Uh, the surgical tools are here," Gwen said, pulling a covered tray out of one corner. She pulled back the cover and held up a large syringe. 

Cole frowned at the size of it. "Hwa'ta?" he asked. 

Gwen nodded wordlessly. "It's the only thing here that's strong enough to kill her pain without harming the child. I'll give it to her. She'll be feeling no pain in two minutes tops. You get on that computer and read up on C-sections while it starts working."

Cole nodded and sat down in front of the computer. "Mel, will you sit with Jenin?"

"Yeah." She nodded and moved to stand next to Jenin, taking the girl's hand and brushing her hair out of her face. "You okay, sweetie?"

"I'll be better when I've held and named my daughter," Jenin assured her, her expression pained but confident. 

"Okay, Jen. Get some rest," Mel suggested gently. She looked up at Gwen as she unwrapped and the _very_ large syringe. "What the hell is a… hwa'ta?" she asked.

"It's a Cirronian word. Drug injected directly into the cardiac muscle," Gwen explained, uncapping it and knocking out bubbles.

"You're going to shove that thing into her _chest_?" Mel hissed, staring at a needle about twice as thick as _any_ she had ever seen while giving blood at the Red Cross. 

  
"Relax, I've done it more than once in the past," Gwen assured her gently, pushing down Jenin's hospital-gown to expose her chest. 

Mel's wide eyes grew wider still. "You have?"

"Hwa'ta is used for high anesthetic and bio-chemical countermeasures. Humans use if for the latter purpose as well," Gwen explained. "I've done it to myself, my friends, _and_ my fiancé."

Mel stared at the needle again, her eyes wide. 

"Ready, Jenin?" Gwen asked.

"It won't knock me out?"  


"No. It's designed to kill pain without robbing the patient of awareness." 

Jenin nodded sharply. "Do it."

"Okay." Gwen nodded, wrapped both hands around the syringe and shoved it into Jenin's chest.

The Nodulian did not even flinch. Mel retreated to a corner, grabbing a trashcan and retching as Gwen emptied the syringe of its contents. 

"You _have_ done this before," Jenin murmured, smiling faintly.

"Yeah." Gwen nodded and removed the needle, pressing a square of gauze over the puncture. "You just relax now and let it happen," she suggested, smiling gently down at Jenin. "It's also going to make the contractions less severe, so maybe you can finally get some sleep."

"I'll try," Jenin told her, closing her eyes.

"Good." Gwen smiled more firmly and brushed Jenin's hair out of her face, watching her with a worried look for a moment before walking over to Mel. "You okay?" she asked gently.

"You've done that to _yourself_?" Mel whispered.

Gwen nodded. "I'd been exposed to nerve gas. Adrenaline to the heart is the standard countermeasure." 

Mel stared at Gwen, trying to picture the kind of determination and guts it must have taken to shove a needle that size into her own chest for a moment her other words sunk in. _Exposed to nerve gas?_

"I don't know you at all, do I?" she whispered.

"I'd say you know the _real_ me fairly well," Gwen told her, shrugging. "I'm _not_ a spy, you know, not really. I'm… just a girl who sometimes has to… act," she said with a hint of sadness in her tone. "We do what we have to do because no one else is willing but… someone has to."

"Cole says you have a grudge against Zin?"

"Yeah. He took something very dear to me. I'll tell you all about it another time," Gwen assured her quietly.

"You going to be okay, Gwen?" Mel asked gently, spreading her arms.

Gwen wordlessly hugged her, nodding. The two women only looked up when they heard Cole and Jenin chanting quietly.

"Just take her hand and try to keep her calm," Gwen murmured to Mel.

Mel nodded and moved to stand by Jenin's head as Gwen quietly moved to stand next to Cole, looking up at him and waiting for instructions.

"Cole?" Mel whispered.

He looked up at her with wide, anxious eyes.

"Can you do this?" she asked quietly.

"I have to, Mel," he pointed out simply, picking up a scalpel. "I've read a lot of material. I think I can do it." 

"Good luck," she whispered.

"Thank you, Mel." Cole smiled weakly and returned his attention to Jenin.

Mel fixed her attention on Jenin's face, unwilling to look at what was happening on the other side of the drape. Her only indication that Cole had even begun the surgery came when Jenin let out a low hiss. Mel held her hand in one of her own and gently smoothed her hair out of her face, murmuring soothingly and not tearing her eyes from Jenin's face. The Nodulian woman remained impassive, but the color was rapidly leaving her face and it was obvious that she was struggling to remain conscious. In spite of that, though, the Nodulian never faltered in the quiet chant she was sending up.


	10. Chapter 10

****

Chapter 10 -- Delivery

Táhirih did not bother to open her eyes or even move when she heard her cell door swing open. Until the opened door allowed her to heard shouting, running, and the unmistakable sound of what most human members of the Taskforce had come to term the 'Collection howl'. She struggled into a sitting position only to find herself slumping to the floor.

Gentle hands broke her fall and when she finally managed to force her eyelids to part she found herself staring into what Gwen had once referred to as 'only the most amazing eyes in the universe'. Táhirih had never been entirely sure about that, even if hazel eyes _were_ remarkably striking set into such a dark face. Until now.

"She was right," she mumbled as he gently shifted her back onto the bed. "They _are_ beautiful…" She reached for his face and missed, her fingers skimming his shoulder before her hand dropped limply to her side.

Kettai smiled faintly and shook his head. "So, very little actual point in asking if you're going to be able to walk," he guessed. "So we'll just skip to the important one. Are you _hurt_?" he asked, touching a large bruise on her right side.

"Hey," she protested weakly, swimming out of her drug-induced haze long enough to grab a blanket and pull it over her mostly-bare body. 

He reached for the blanket only to have her bat at his hand. "I am not going to sit in here playing tug-of-war with you over this blanket because of some stupid human concept of modesty. In case the screaming didn't give it away, I've got a fight going on out there."

"Not hurt. Professional opinion," she yawned, rolling onto her side with her back to him.

"Bad time for a nap, Doctor," Kettai sighed, wrapping her in the quilt and picking her up. "Come on…"

"No sign of Zin or Lana yet, sir," a young woman reported jogging up to him. She eyed Táhirih for a moment. "She okay?"

"Heavily sedated, Agent Thompson." Kettai gave her a reassuring smile. "Any trace of…" He paused long enough to pull a photo of Zin and Thaler from his pocket. "This man?"

"Uh, not that I've seen, but I can ask around."

"Do that." Kettai handed her the picture. "Call me if he's found."

"Is he to be taken?"

"He may have valuable information. Hold him for me."

"Yes, sir." She nodded and hurried off.

"Jenin?" Táhirih whispered into his shoulder. "Zin said… she died…"

"No, baby." Kettai shook his head and gently pet her hair for a few moments before walking on. "She's still with us, last I heard. And I _would_ be the first to know."

"Baby's too large…"

"So I heard. You going to be up to performing a C-section on her?" he asked gently, transferring her into his car. She barely looked up to figuring out which end of a scalpel to cut with.

"Done dozens… do one… asleep." She yawned and made an annoyed sound. "If… could stay awake."

Kettai winced. No way was she going to be helpful to them. "Okay, Táhirih. Enough small-talk. You just rest now." He looked over when there was no answer. Táhirih had taken his advice to heart. She was sound asleep. Shrugging, he drove.

***

Cole hesitated in his next cut, not trying to remember how, but to still his trembling hands. Human bodies reacted strangely to anxiety and this was one of those cases. The last thing he needed was to try to do this with shaking hands. Drawing a deep breath, he lowered the scalpel again. 

"Stop," Kettai directed, half-carrying Táhirih into the room.

"Oh, my gods," Gwen whispered, staring at the battered woman wearing little but an appropriated hospital gown.

"I'll take it from here, Daggon," Táhirih directed gently, pulling on a pair of gloves. "How is she?" she asked Mel.

"In and out of consciousness. And… she's so _pale_…"

"She's losing a lot of blood," Táhirih said after taking a moment to assess Jenin.

Cole shook his head. "But not from this. I've been doing it like I read, cauterizing as I go. There's hardly been any blood."

"Baby's too large. Something must have torn," Táhirih decided, nodding to herself. She looked over the surgical incision. "Well done, Daggon. Gwen, Kettai, come assist me."

"Cole?" the Nodulian asked weakly.

"I'm here," he assured her tenderly, catching her hand. He gently brushed her hair out of her face, playing his fingers along her forehead. "Táhirih is here, too. Everything is going to be fine. You're both going to be just fine."

"I'm so tired…"

"I know. And you can rest _very_ soon," he promised. "They say that stasis is just like taking a nap. You can rest then."

She smiled weakly and nodded. "Sounds good. Just as soon as I've named her." She winced and let out a quiet grunt.

Cole took one of her hands in both of his. "Look at me, Jenin. You focus on the sound of my voice and you breathe just like I showed you."

"This would be a good time to start chanting," Táhirih told Cole.

Cole nodded and quietly took up a Nodulian chant. Jenin gave his hand a squeeze and started chanting as well. Mel stood by, feeling useless as the others worked on the other side of the drape. She sat down in a corner, the smell of cauterized tissue suddenly making her nauseous. She closed her eyes and sent up a prayer that mother and daughter would both survive this insanity. Her eyes popped open abruptly at the sound of quiet cooing.

"_Allah_," Táhirih breathed, her expression one of wonder.

"Gods," Gwen whispered, cleaning up the baby.

Cole moved to her side and gently took the baby from her hands, smiling widely as he quickly looked it over. "Neh etan_…_" He wrapped her in the waiting receiving blanket and placed her gently into Jenin's arms. "She is _perfect_, Jenin," he breathed. "Beautiful." He looked up at Mel, smiling and beckoning her. "Mel, come look."

"Oh, look at you," Jenin whispered, smiling weakly down at her child, happy tears in her eyes. "You _are_ perfect."

"She's a hundred percent Nodulian," Táhirih whispered as Kettai healed the incision. "I don't know how, but it is _amazing_…"

Mel slowly approached the bed again, joining Cole where he stood, smiling up at him as he slid an arm around her shoulder. Slowly, not entirely sure what to expect, she looked down at the Nodulian infant. Cole had been right. She _was_ beautiful. Only her head stuck out of the blanket, but Mel was enchanted by that little view of her. Her skin was the smooth gray of a dolphin or whale, her big round eyes completely black. There was nothing the least bit human about her features. Her face very much resembled that of a dolphin. Her tiny little snout bore what could only be a smile. She blinked a few times and looked around with an expression of obvious curiosity before cooing again. 

"Thank you," Jenin whispered, closing her eyes and weeping silently. "Thank you all so much…"

"Her name, Jenin?" Cole asked gently but firmly. He could feel her life-force slipping away.

"Ashi, with your permission."

Cole blinked, startled. "Thank you, Jenin. It is an honor."

She smiled and nodded, holding the child close. "Ashi, her name is Ashi. She is Ashi, firstborn child of Jenin and Kres, their beloved daughter." Nodding firmly, she touched her forehead to Ashi's and then handed her to Cole.

"Welcome to the universe, little one," Cole added with a sad smile, holding the baby close for a moment before handing her to Mel. "Jenin?"

"I'm ready." She nodded again.

Cole sighed deeply, tears in his eyes as he produced his Collector. "Mel, please take Ashi outside. She should not be here."

"Are you sure, Cole? Should I stay?" 

Cole close his eyes and shook his head. "_Please_, Mel," he whispered, almost a plea.

Mel nodded and cuddled the baby close as she left.

"You need moral support?" Gwen asked gently as Táhirih joined Mel in the hall.

"No." Cole shook his head. "You two go, get Mel and Ashi out of here."

"We'll meet you at the Watchfire," Gwen murmured, squeezing his shoulder and following the others from the room.

Cole drew a deep breath and slowly approached Jenin. The Nodulian's expression was one of utmost serenity.

"Thank you, sir. There are not words enough to express the gratitude I bear you."

Cole nodded, tears in his eyes. "Close your eyes and be calm," he directed in a pained voice.

"Never so calm as in this moment. Zin will not have my child. You and your friend will keep her safe and see to it that she is well loved. Nothing else matters to me." Jenin reclined in the bed and closed her eyes. Oblivion was threatening to take her, but she was not afraid because she knew he would not let her die.

"Think of the most beautiful place you've ever been," he whispered tenderly, resting one hand on her forehead and releasing calming energy. Quickly, painlessly, he Collected her life-force. His entire body shaking, he sat down and wept.

***

"Can we get her out of here with Zin's people everywhere?" Mel whispered as the others joined her in the hall.

"_I_ can," Kettai announced, gently taking the child from her arms. "I'll get her back to the Watchfire." He looked down at the baby, then smiled at Táhirih. "Well done, Doctor."

"Definitely a first for me," Táhirih admitted, allowing Gwen to support her. "Of course, it's been a day of firsts. Held captive by a Vardian, interrogated and tortured by an Enixian, rescued by a Cirronian, brought a Nodulian into the world… all I need now are a pair of Orsusians and a Dessarian and I'll have a full house."

"Yeah, well, we should all vacate now," Gwen suggested quietly. "Kettai, go."

He nodded and kissed Gwen's cheek. "Stay safe, my love. It's almost over."

"I know." Gwen smiled warmly at him. "Looks like we're going to get that happy ending after all."

"So it seems," he agreed. Bowing to Mel, he resettled the baby in his arms and slid into Hyperspeed.

"Okay, now what?" Mel asked, glancing over her shoulder to the closed door.

"You and Táhirih get out. She knows the way. I'll cover this door until Daggon's done."

"Okay. Thank you." Mel quickly hugged Gwen before following Táhirih off.

Gwen waited better than twenty minutes before intruding on Cole.

"Daggon," she called gently, leaning into the room. "You really do need to go now."

Cole looked up at her, not bothering to dry his tears as he rose. "Yes, Gwen. Thank you, Gwen. For everything."

"Hey, that's what friends are for, yeah?" Smiling reassuringly, she patted his shoulder. "Better get. Mel will worry."

Cole nodded, took a deep breath, and slipped into hyper-speed. Gwen stared after him, took a final glance at the body that Jenin had recently vacated, and left the room. The Taskforce would make sure that no trace was every found. Kettai would get Ashi safely to the Watchfire. Mel Porter and Kedriss Daggon would settle back into their lives. Lives not likely to ever be even remotely similar to the way they had been before, thanks to a new addition to their loving family. And life would go on for everyone. All in all, a good day's work.

She could not help but be a little disappointed that she had not run into Zin _or_ the fugitive that had taken her brother's body, but there would be other chances for that. 

Perhaps sooner than later, she realized with an internal smile as she rounded a corner in the abandoned wing and ran into _both_ Vardians.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat coughed up," Gwen drawled, smiling benignly at Zin. 

"Gwynlyn Moiré Angelo," Zin greeted her with a polite nod. "We meet at last."

Gwen's smile widened. She was _really_ going to enjoy beating this arrogant bastard to a pulp. "We do. You have much to answer for, Vardian." 

Zin affected polite interest. "Do I indeed?"

"Mmm." Gwen nodded. "Starting with _that_." She nodded towards the man who had once been her brother.

"Ah, yes, of course. I'd nearly forgotten that one of my people had the good fortune to find his way into the elder brother of an SST Agent."

"Bad fortune, I dare say," Gwen corrected him, discreetly palming her Collector. She had received it _after_ James had been taken, so neither man had any way of knowing about it. She glanced from Zin to 'James' and back to Zin. "You won't take it _too_ personally, I hope, when I kill your lap-dog?"

Zin raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the girl's bravado. "Have at it, Thaler," Zin said, shrugging and nodding to the Vardian. 

He was eager to see what this Gwen creature with her muddled genetics was capable of. There were enough of his people in the hospital to find the Nodulian and her child without help from Zin himself _or_ Thaler, so the little diversion would cost him nothing. If the hybrid died quickly, nothing was lost. If it took her longer, she might still prove useful to him in some capacity. If nothing else, her DNA might be added to his growing data-base.

Zin watched, intrigued, as Thaler rushed Gwen. It was a foolish move, Zin reflected as Gwen side-stepped, caught the Vardian's arm, and flipped him. Thaler landed on the floor with a grunt. Gwen, refusing to lose the advantage she had gained, dove on top of him and pressed the Collector into his chest, rolling off as soon as she had, Collecting his life-force even as she put distance between herself and Zin. She regarded him with a grim smile, swaying slightly as she sized him up.

Served Thaler right for underestimating his foe. "Not bad for an Enixian mongrel," Zin remarked mildly, turning to leave. 

Gwen decided that Zin leaving was _not_ an option. The next words out of her mouth were calculated to make him stay, and she _knew_ they would.

"Takes one to know one, hmm?" she asked easily.

It was a verbal blow below the belt and she knew it, hitting him in not one but _two_ Vardian soft-spots. Racial purity and their respect for the honor of their mothers. Zin spun to face her, his expression livid.

"**_What?_**" he snarled.

"You heard me, you bastard." Gwen kept her voice free of emotion. Her aim was to get _Zin_ emotional, not herself. If he were angry enough, he _would_ slip up. "I said it takes a _tahgana_ to know one."

Tahgana, a Vardian born to parents from two different castes. It was the single worst insult you could level against a Vardian and the look on Zin's face told Gwen that it had hit home. Gwen pressed her advantage with malicious pleasure.

"Oh, come on. We all know how your mother _really_ died. Suicide to avoid prosecution for the crime of outbreeding, wasn't it?"

She casually ducked a stray paint-can Zin sent flying at her.

"Temper, temper. _Definitely_ a sign of warrior-caste heritage." Gwen tisked at him and shook her head. "You're only making my point for me. Your father's body-guard, I suppose?"

"You will _die_ for your insolence." 

Gwen scoffed. "You think? Because I was thinking something _very_ similar about you. Now, we can't _both_ be right," she pointed out reasonably. 

Any citizen of the Migar Alliance could tell you that the only creature more dangerous than an enraged Vardian was a mother Enixian protecting her young. Gwen had no children of her own to protect, but she did have a _family_. Mel, Cole, Táhirih, Kettai. James… She looked down at the corpse, her ears ringing. Oh, yeah. _No one_ messed with the people Gwynlyn Moiré Angelo cared about. Zin was responsible for James' death, had tortured Táhirih, was actively trying to work harm against Mel and Cole, would have killed Kettai in a heartbeat on general principle. He had screwed with one too many of the people she loved.

Howling as only an angry Enixian could, she launched herself at the Vardian. Zin was too stunned to react as she bore him to the floor and applied her fist to his face three times in rapid succession. She wrapped one hand around his throat and raised her Collector, only to have it telekinetically plucked from her hand and hurled away down the hall. Shrugging, she drove her fist into his face again. And found herself flying down the hall as her Collector had. Bones shattered as she hit the floor. Ignoring the pain, she scooped up her Collector and took off at a run.

"This isn't over!" she snarled over her shoulder. "Next time, I won't bother with the Collector!"

Zin scoffed and picked himself off, dusting off his suit and pulling a handkerchief from one pocket. Shaking his head, he applied the cloth to his bloody nose. Death was too easy for a creature like that. He was going to have to think long and hard on a suitably agonizing punishment. Or maybe he could find a way to brainwash her over to his side. A modified neurodebilitator, perhaps? One that left her sense of ethics intact while completely overriding her free will.

He chuckled quietly as he stepped over Thaler's body and pulled out his cell-phone. He quickly gave orders, annoyed that his people still had not found the child. Shaking his head, he hung up and raised the handkerchief to his still-bleeding nose again. Oh, yes, that one had potential.

"Not bad for an Enixian mongrel," he repeated, his smile growing. "Not bad at all…" 

***

Kettai arrived at the Watchfire first, but he was not the only person in the darkened barroom. 

"Well done, Agent Kettai," Tarsk greeted him, smiling widely. 

Kettai frowned at his tone and held Ashi more firmly against his chest. "You should still be at the hospital, Tarsk. I ordered you to supervise the removal of Jenin's body."

"Anyone can handle that," Tarsk said dismissively. "But speaking of people who are not where they should be… shouldn't _you_ be at the airport? We wouldn't want the Starkes to worry."

"There's been a change of plans."

  
"I know. And another since."

Kettai closed his eyes, aware that there were multiple non-human life-forces nearby. "The fugitive Jenin made her choice as to who would raise Ashi," he stated firmly.

  
"A choice that the Council rejects."

"I beg your pardon?" Kettai shook his head, backing away. "I don't think so." He looked up as the front door opened and several more members of the Taskforce entered. "No!"

"Don't make it hard on the child, Kettai, _or_ on yourself. Just give her to me."

"Over my dead body."

"No. You're too valuable to us for that."

Kettai mentally judged the distance between himself and the door, shouting and holding the child closer when two Taskforce Agents grabbed him from behind. It took four more to restrain him enough for Tarsk to take Ashi from his arms and, even then, it had more to do with Kettai's fear that his struggling might hurt her than with the fact that he was overpowered.

"A Nodulian child should be raised by Nodulian parents, _not_ by a Cirronian and a talking monkey." Tarsk shrugged, lightly touching the baby's forehead. "She really is perfect, isn't she?"

"Don't do this. It's _wrong_…"

"The Starkes were _most_ pleased to hear that you had changed your mind," Tarsk added, ignoring Kettai. 

"Please…" 

"I need to go now. The Starkes are waiting." Bowing, Tarsk left the bar.

***

"Well, we _know_ the Starkes got her," Kettai told Mel, Cole, and Gwen with a deep sigh. 

The four of them sat around a corner booth in the closed Watchfire. All had obviously been crying. Mel and Gwen had half-finished a bottle of scotch and Cole and Kettai had made short work of a pound of fudge that Gwen had brought, suspecting that a mild sedative was in order for both men. In spite of their bleak expressions, none looked the worse for wear physically except for Gwen: black, blue, casted, and with her left arm in a sling. She had resolutely refused to allow Kettai to heal any of her wounds.

"And we know that the Starkes went into hiding a short time later. Tarsk told them that Zin would be actively seeking out the child," Kettai added.

"Will he?" Mel asked quietly.

"No." Gwen shook her head, pouring herself another glass of scotch. "Ashi will be safe. Zin believes she died."

"I can't believe you gave _Zin_ a bloody nose," Mel remarked quietly, shaking her head.

"Hey, he _deserved_ it."

"Gwen, he could have killed you!" Mel protested. "Your arm is broken in two places, you broke three ribs, bruised your collarbone, dislocated your shoulder…"

"Yeah, okay, so discretion has never been my strong-suit." Gwen shrugged. "Next time I'll know better."

"Gwen, Zin is not a man to be underestimated," Cole told her gently. "Attempting to take his life-force without backup was unwise." He gently patted her good shoulder. "We would not want to lose you."

"He's right, you know," Kettai murmured.

Gwen nodded and stared down at her drink, then leaned back against Kettai's chest. He smiled down at her and wrapped a careful arm around her, resting his chin on top of her head.

Mel watched the couple with a wistful smile, feeling half happy for them and half envious of what they had. She looked down in surprise when she felt a warm hand brush against hers. Smiling, she took Cole's hand in hers and wrapped his arm around her, leaning into him.

"How's Táhirih?" Mel asked quietly, reluctant to break the comfortable silence that had fallen between the small group but worried about the other woman. 

"Our doctors are keeping her overnight for observation and to give the drugs time to leave her system, but her injuries are healed," Kettai told Mel. He glanced down at his watch. "We should go now, too. The doctors say that Gweny must rest."

"Notice how they've stopped telling you that I need to 'stay in bed' when I get hurt?" Gwen teased as he draped her coat over her shoulders.

"Took them long enough to catch on." He kissed her cheek, chuckling as he became aware that Cole was watching them with bemusement. "Good night, Daggon. Good night, Miss Porter. I am sorry beyond words that things could not have turned out better."

"I think we all are," Mel agreed, rising and giving him a quick hug. She gave Gwen a quick peck on the cheek. "You still aren't off the hook about lying to me," she whispered, winking at the girl.

Gwen smiled. "Night, Miss porter. Night, Daggon."

"And I _am_ healing at least those bruises," Kettai muttered to Gwen, shaking his head.

"Good night, Gwen. Good night, Kettai." Cole stood next to Mel as she watched the two leave, sliding an arm around her waist. "You should also go to bed now, Mel," he suggested once they were alone together. 

Mel considered joking about Gwen and Kettai's earlier comments about bed versus rest but did not have the heart. She settled for an almost-plea of, "Not yet."

"Mel?" Cole asked, watching her with concern.

"Just… not yet, okay? I feel… lonely right now."

He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close. "So do I. We'll… we'll go upstairs and sit up together for a little while." 

"Yeah." Mel nodded and threaded her hand through his. "Thank you, Cole." 

"You're welcome, Mel." He smiled down at her. "And thank you, too, Mel. I don't know that I could have made it through the last few days without you."

She smiled tenderly up at him. "I'm always here for you, no matter what you need."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and resting his forehead against hers. "I would have _loved_ to raise a child with you, Mel," he whispered. 

Mel stared up at him with wide eyes, swallowing hard.

"You will be a wonderful mother some day. It's my favorite thing about you. You have love in your heart to spare."

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. "So do you…"

Cole smiled at the gesture. "Let's go upstairs now, Mel," he suggested gently. 

Mel felt her heart skip more than one beat at a suggestion that could have been taken more than one way and definitely brought to mind the bed versus rest banter that Gwen and Kettai had shared. Composing herself, she smiled and nodded at her alien friend and love, following him up the stairs to the apartment.

****

The End


End file.
